


Blood and Magic

by DrJLecter



Category: Hannibal (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Gore, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulative Hannibal, Minor Character Death, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Someone Help Will Graham, no encephalitis, what happens if you take all the Hannibal characters and throw them into the magical world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-24 09:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJLecter/pseuds/DrJLecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham works with the Baltimore Auror Division and his latest case leads him to the Chesapeake Ripper, a non-magical serial killer. All the more shocking that it takes him right into Hogwarts, the center of the old magical world. It's a world he wasn't born in and has never felt a part of even with his special talent. Thankfully there is Professor Hannibal Lecter who's happy to help him get settled...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>ATTENTION ATTENTION!<br/>This fic has been reedited and slightly changed from the first time it was posted. Re-uploaded on 2017/11/02</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fusion between Harry Potter and Hannibal and a complete AU. We won't meet many of the characters from the Harry Potter Universe and I'll try to keep book and movie references to a minimum so that the story might also be interesting to people who don't know anything about Harry Potter.

It was 2am and Will was exhausted.

The wind howled through the dark and empty streets, tearing erratically at Will’s clothes. A single street lamp tried to illuminate the darkness with its flickering light as he made his way down the road. Will pressed his coat tighter around himself, trying to stop the shaking of his hands. It smelt like rain and the air felt sharp in his nostrils as if it weren’t 80 degrees but 40.

He turned around the last corner and found the crime scene buzzing with people processing evidence, taking photos and writing down notes. The flashes were sharp sparks behind Will’s eyes. Words were exchanged in quiet whispers, everybody glancing at the corpse now and then as if they couldn’t believe their eyes.

Will could understand them. The work of the Chesapeake Ripper always left an impression of the strongest kind and it was no different this time. The body had been opened up and almost turned inside out, spreading a sea of blood all through the street. What once had been red and glistening in the setting sun was now a black crust covering everything in a circle of about ten feet. The edges of the bloody lake had been guided to flow into elegant swirls over rough concrete, creating the illusion of an artful mandala. The smell of metal lay heavy in the air.

Will rubbed his tired eyes with a deep sigh and stepped closer to the scene of the slaughter. Everyone else stepped back until he was alone with the silent body and the loud wind in his ears. It was the third in the Ripper’s usual sounders of three which meant that the killer would vanish from the face of the earth again for the unforeseeable future.

Will wondered if he had been doing this for too long now, when the thought didn’t cause any sort of emotion in him but relief as his foremost concern was that these murders disrupted his usual schedule. His dogs were locked up alone and had missed their evening meal and run in the fields.

Putting his glasses back onto his nose, he steeled himself for what was to come. His head had started to throb before he’d even started as if trying to warn him off. Ignoring it as usual, he looked up to find the face of the victim and his dead eyes. Sinking deep into the lifeless stare, he found himself in the foggy memories of the victim, fighting against the thick tar blackness of a dying mind, trying to make sense of the hazy and blurred images flickering all around him. He had to find the moment of death, hoping to catch a glimpse of the murderer, but for whatever reason, he felt as if caught in a sluggish mass of darkness, barely managing to get his usual clear pictures and scenes and failing to find the typical brightness of the last moments alive.

The endless void of a decaying body and a disintegrating mind threatened to pull him in and Will knew he had to get out before he was lost. Before he could withdraw though, a bright image blinded him with shocking sharpness.

Gasping, he tore himself free to find himself back in the windy street, surrounded by people staring at him.

“Found something?” someone asked while Will tried to make sense of what he had seen.

Before he could respond, someone else gave a shout. Everyone turned around and Will saw several faces pale. One of the forensics had found something in the sewer and the ground seemed to waver under his feet.

Someone cursed.

It was a wand that had been pushed to the side at some point which meant the dead man was a wizard. While Will was the only one possessing magical abilities on the scene everyone was in the know about the existence of the magical world. All of them knew what it meant that the Chesapeake Ripper had managed to overpower a wizard. Will realized that the man’s mind had been meddled with, which had made it so hard to find what he had been looking for.

This just became so much bigger than before and Will knew it was only going to get worse before it got better, because now children were going to be involved. “I know where we have to go looking.”

Everyone turned to him.

“Hogwarts.”

The image of the regal castle towering over the lake and surrounded by Scottish mountains was still swimming behind his eyes. It hadn’t been a childhood memory and it had definitely been connected to the murder. Will could feel it singing through his blood as sharply as he could smell the rain in the air.

Now he only had to convince his boss to let him go to magical Scotland to hunt the Chesapeake Ripper in Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After convincing his boss to let him leave for London, Will now has to convince Jack Crawford, Head Auror in the Ministry of Magic in London, to let him into Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the wonderful Llew! Thank you for helping me to find my love for this story again. 
> 
> At the end of each chapter I'll explain terms that might cause problems for people not knowing the Harry Potter universe. If you have questions or need more explanations tell me and I will add them.

The Atrium of the Ministry of Magic in London gave Will a good idea of what his personal hell would look like.

It was huge, portraying a wide market square inside a cave. The ceiling appeared to be miles above him, covered in magical light sources while the walls were covered in old fashioned bricks, mostly hidden behind fronts of buildings. If it weren’t for the unnatural light and the depressingly sinister black tiles under his feet it would almost appear like a typical market square of a small town.

The space was filled with constantly moving currents of people in black robes. They were shining with the colorful magic running through their cells, some more bright and glittery than others. Like strange pastel tides, they wafted through the wide space, their shoes clicking on tiled floors in rapid staccatos hurrying into every direction. The echoes filling the wide space were almost deafening and Will’s reflex to protect himself from the overwhelming noise was strong. He knew, if he lingered here for any longer he would find himself with a migraine.

In addition to the loud echoing noises, the air and every inch of surface was absolutely soaked in magic and his senses perceived it as a dull throb against his skin. For the first time in his life he was in a space that had been subjected to, changed with and constantly saturated by magic for hundreds of years. He felt almost crushed under its weight.

His eyes followed the paths most people were taking and he finally pushed himself out into the wide space to be swept towards what looked like one of the main entry points into the deeper parts of the Ministry. Trying to distract himself from the mounting pressure in his skull, Will watched as rows upon rows of golden fireplaces along the walls hissed constantly, green flames spitting out an endless queue of ministry workers coming in for work. Will had never liked travel via fireplaces, the experience leaving him nauseated and dizzy, so he’d taken the entrance in the old unused telephone cell to get into the underground building.

Keeping his gaze lowered like everyone else, he drifted through the wide space. He sighed in relief when he finally found his way to the elevators after being pushed around countless times by zombielike wizards and witches. The faster he arrived to the office he was looking for, the faster he could get back to his little rented room in the small pub he was staying at.

A high golden gate spanned across the hallway, with an incredibly bored-looking wizard stationed at the front of it. His magic was a low dull throb, barely more than a hint. The job seemed to be checking every guest’s wand passing through to confirm the owner hadn’t used any forbidden or suspicious spells recently. Will supposed it was a necessary security measure to prevent undesirable intruders from entering, though most would consider it an outdated method. There were far better spells that could do the exact same thing, and without all the needless interaction.

Sighing, Will patted down his outfit for his wand. He wasn’t used to wearing the robes that the old world wizards preferred, tending to forget in which of the endless hidden pockets he’d placed his wand in. His comfortable flannel shirts and cargo pants were easier to navigate and didn’t make him feel as if on his way to graduation, but his boss had told him to make an effort not to alienate everyone on his first day here.

Finally fishing out his wand from one of his pockets, Will held it out to the wizard who scanned it swiftly with his own.

“Do you have an appointment, Mister...?” The wizard asked in a disinterested and monotone voice.

Will stared at the shiny table top, trying to stop himself from simply leaving. “Graham. I come from the American Auror department. I have a meeting with Head Auror Crawford at ten.”

The doorman lifted his head at that, eyebrows rising obviously skeptical of Will being a member of the highly trained special squad.

In that tense moment, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, making Will violently flinch away from the unexpected touch, his wand flying back into his hand as he turned, tapping down the urge to react like his training demanded.

Ignoring Will's reaction and possibly his own self-preservation, the tall, dark-skinned man reached out with his hand. “Auror Graham? I’m Jack Crawford. Welcome to London and the Ministry of Magic.”

Will found himself facing a wall of a man made even more intimidating by the wide flare of his robes and the sharp red pulse of his magic swirling around him. Grasping the offered hand in a quick handshake after he’d put his wand away, Will tried to bring his eyes at least up to Crawford’s chin.

“Thank you, Head Auror Crawford.” Will said, following Jack past the miffed door wizard, the Auror already in movement and obviously expecting Will to follow him.

Will made himself think of cool streams as he was crowded into an elevator. He knew Crawford was already testing him. It was in his file that he hated people invading his personal space, and the adverse things that might happen to people who carelessly disregarded that for too long. The trip further into the guts of the Ministry went without incident, though.

Pressing himself into the elevator's wall as much as he could, Will stared at the level buttons to keep him from focusing on the stress and noise of others. He needed a distraction as countless emotions battered against his shields. It came in the form of little purple paper planes buzzing around and about Will's head.

“These are our interdepartmental memos. That way we spread our information between the offices and the different levels in the house. Much cleaner and more efficient than owls.” Crawford sounded amused.

“Fascinating,” Will murmured, finally giving into old habits as he fumbled with his glasses. He wanted to be gone from this place.

A sweet voice echoed through the space, announcing the level and the offices to be found there. The Atrium had been on Level 8, deep under the earth. When the voice announced Level 2, the level for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the doors opened. A flood of people stepped in and out while small memos swarmed through the hallways. Will tried to remain calm, swallowing down the anxiety that threatened to make him do very unfortunate things to other people.

Taking a deep breath, Will tried his best to stay behind Crawford as the waves of wizards and witches parted unbidden like a strange sea before them to let them pass. It was obvious that the Head Auror was a respected person.

Stepping through a set of heavy oak doors, Will found himself in a large open area filled with a seemingly endless number of cubicles for all the Aurors. The sounds of talking and fluttering paper died down as Will followed Crawford through the area, hating every moment of having too many eyes on him.

Concentrating on the magical windows showing a thunderstorm raging outside, Will made it through the room without meeting anyone’s eyes by accident. The silence in Crawford’s office was a blessing, one that Will took in with relieved breath.

Crawford waved Will towards one of the chairs before sitting down behind a giant desk. The window behind him showed an Italian town, maybe Florence. The sun was shining and glinting in the soft waves of the river between elegant buildings and for a moment Will’s heart ached with wanderlust. He tore his eyes from the peaceful scenery back into the office. A giant owl sat in the corner of the room, staring unblinking at him as if to dare him to make a wrong move.

Lacing his fingers together to place his chin down comfortably on the knot, Crawford regarded Will with a sharp look.

“Will Graham. I've heard a lot about you." Jack said, clearly impressed. Will didn't particularly care for the smile that played on the Auror's lips. It reminded him too much of a hound who had caught onto a scent. "Is all of it true?"

"Depends on what you have heard and from whom." Will countered. “But yes, I am that Will Graham. The one that can  _ read the dead _ ." His words dripped with sarcasm, making it clear what he thought about that phrase.

"Most believe that it can't be done. The few that do say it can't be done sanely. Where do you fall on that spectrum?" Jack asked quietly, his dark eyes studying Will who tried not to fidget under the intense gaze.

"Are you asking me if I'm crazy?" Will shot back. "If I'm broken beyond repair? Not exactly the greeting I expected here." He knew he sounded bitter, because it was exactly what he had expected and he hated being right with his low expectations for people.

"To be honest with you, I expected worse. From what I've read, Freddie Lounds makes you sound drooling-into-your-own-shirt deranged." Jack arched a brow as he looked Will from head to toe. He was uncomfortably aware of the dog hair clinging to the fabric. "So, Auror Graham, tell me what is going on that needs you to pay us a visit. Your supervisor didn’t want to go into details.”

Will frowned and clenched his hands into fists for a moment.

“I’m not an Auror, which I’m quite sure you’re aware of. I teach profiling at the US Auror Academy and I’m here because I think the serial killer called Chesapeake Ripper by the No-Majs in the United States, or Muggles as you call them, is a wizard and I think he’s got something to do with Hogwarts.” Will paused to let that sink in. What he was proposing was not about to be taken lightly or well.

Crawford managed only to look surprised for a moment. “Even I have heard of that killer. He's taken to displaying his victims in the most gruesome ways possible. A true psychopath and a dangerous individual.” Will frowned at that, but decided to keep that discussion for another time.

“Why do you think he’s not a muggle? So far I haven’t heard any information on him using magic in any form. Everything he does has being done by hand and with muggle knives.”

Will nodded. Those were exactly the arguments his boss had thrown on the table.

“I know. But this time it’s different. The last victim was a wizard and his mind had been tampered with right before his death. The only thing I could see was Hogwarts for a short moment. Everything else had been wiped out,” Will stated with renewed resolve.

That got a reaction out of Crawford Will was looking for, the wizard sitting up straight.

“He used magic? Are you sure it was the killer and not something that had happened earlier?” Crawford growled at him.

“Yes,” he simply answered.

“And you saw Hogwarts,” Crawford questioned. He still sounded very doubtful. Apparently even someone who had experiences with the art of invading the minds of others couldn’t believe in Will’s ability.

“Yes,” Will bit out the word from between clenched teeth. He was used to disbelief, but having to explain himself several times in a row always infuriated Will.

"Don’t ask me for proof, unless you have a body lying around somewhere that's been dead for less than 6 hours. Even I have limitations.” Will interrupted before Crawford could open his mouth wide enough to form words. Will watched the man narrow his dark eyes. He obviously wasn’t used to people talking like that to him.

"So you want me to get you into Hogwarts, a school full of kids, on some vague clues that you may or may not have found in a dead man’s head? Notions and muttering of the mind that told you a serial killer who has gone on a killing spree in the States is hiding there?"

“Yes.”

Crawford snorted. “Do you have any idea how hard it will be to convince the Minister of Magic and the Headmistress of Hogwarts to even let you near the school? I can already tell you that won’t happen.”

“Will you at least try? It’s the first real clue we've had to the Chesapeake Ripper for as long as he has been murdering people, and now he killed two of our folk as well, so even if the Minister thought the killer was only a problem for the Muggle world, he is now ours as well.” Will managed to press out, tamping down his anger. He was so close, could feel Crawford’s magic swirl into the room, ready to strike.

Crawford leaned back in his seat, regarding Will with renewed interest. Trying not to fidget, Will endured the heavy gaze as long as possible before he jumped out of his seat and went for the door. The owl rustled its wings in reproach.

“Thank you for your time Head Auror Crawford. I will be on my way now.” Will muttered as his palms hit the hardwood.

"Alright.”

Will stopped, the door already ajar, letting in the sounds of the room ahead. He held still, barely breathing.

"I will talk to the Minister, but I am not promising anything. Where can I reach you?”

“I’m staying at the Leaky Cauldron, near Diagon Alley.” Will nodded back his thanks.

“I will inform you when I have results. Have a good day, Mister Graham.”

Will needed all his composure to not slam the door behind himself and to keep a reasonable speed when finding his way back to the Atrium and out into the streets of London.

Breathing in deeply, he filled his lungs with the smell of a busy city in the Muggle world. There was no magic here, only the grey streets, tall buildings and the loud noises of thousands of cars and people. It grounded him into the real world, the shock of stepping from one world into the next slapping him out of the stress of meeting Crawford.

Growing up with his dad in the Muggle world of New Orleans and wherever they moved afterwards, it was still hard for him to embrace the part of him that belonged to the magical world. Right now, he missed his dogs and his house in Wolf Trap with burning intensity and he wished he could go home.

Keeping his head down and his hands in his pockets, Will tried to vanish in the masses of tourists. A quick spell made him almost invisible to the perception of everyone around him. Attention was the last thing he wanted right now.

It started to drizzle after a few minutes and Will thought it was fitting well to his mood. Making his way through the city until he reached Charing Cross Road, Will looked for the bookstore and the entrance located next to it. The house with the Inn had been enchanted so that Muggles couldn’t see it, their eyes just wandering from one side of the street to the other without catching a glimpse on the strange house. It was similar to what he had used on himself, only here it had been build into the foundations of the house, every stone dripping with magic.

Once again preparing himself for the feeling of falling from one world into a completely different one, Will opened the door and stepped into the dark and shabby pub room.

Considering the Pub and Inn was one of the most famous places of the Wizarding World, it looked tattered, gloomy and close to collapsing. He’d been very glad when it turned out that it was only kept that way to make it  _ charming _ . In comparison, his rented room upstairs was light, clean and comfortable. The talking mirror in his room was somewhat annoying with constantly insulting his haircut and his glasses, but Will could deal with that.

Before making his way upstairs to his room, Will saw a wizard in purple robes and a high pointy hat walk into the small courtyard of the place and decided to make his way into Diagon Alley. His head was pounding since stepping into the Ministry earlier and he needed to find a place that sold a potion or drug that worked against the ever-present pain.

 

Following the man closely, Will saw him draw his wand and tap a series of bricks in the wall over a lonely dustbin. After just a moment, the brick wall parted to reveal the entrance to Diagon Alley, the heart of Wizarding London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Auror** : An Auror is a member of an elite unit of highly-trained, specialist officers within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the Ministry of Magic trained to investigate crimes related to the Dark Arts, and apprehend or detain Dark wizards… source: _http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Auror_
> 
> **Muggle** : A Muggle is a person who is born into a non-magical family and is incapable of performing magic. Most Muggles are not aware that magic exists at all and that those with it have organised their own society largely separate from the Muggle world… _http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Muggle_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will tries to survive Diagon Alley and finds himself in the company of a Professor from Hogwarts, Hannibal Lecter.

For a moment Will stood in shock, air stuck in his throat. The scene on the other side of the wall was a blinding mix of sunshine, bright colors and an overwhelming crawling madness of bodies bustling around. Kids were screaming, parents were shouting and all kinds of animals added their sounds to the jumble of noises.

He was about to turn back, but by now someone else was standing behind him, waiting for Will to finally step through the hole and onto the street, so he got himself to move forwards.

The narrow road was framed by small houses that looked right out of some history book about London in the earliest days with the difference that most of them were obviously held together and upright by magic or they would’ve crumbled long ago.

The street itself was flooded with wizards and witches in all kinds of robes in the craziest colors Will had ever seen. In addition to the robes everyone’s colorful magic swirled through the air and Will wished for some sunglasses to block out the overwhelming impression of rainbow.

Working his way through the masses while getting bumped into every other second, Will tried his best to control his breathing and his movements. He stayed closer to the side, trying to avoid the thickest crowd in the middle. Unfortunately, here he had to fight his way through tables in front of the various cafes and whatever he did, somehow he always ended up walking against the stream of people.

Mumbling apologies nobody cared for, he felt like being stuck in the next stage of his personal hell. There was a good reason he’d avoided the magical community in the USA.

After struggling his way through an especially agitated horde of kids in front of a window staring at a racing broom, he’d had enough and dove into the next shop that looked as if it was almost empty.

He barely stopped himself from slamming the door behind himself as he took a deep breath in the blessed silence. It turned out he had ended up in a book shop with every inch of surface covered in books. Everything that didn’t fit in any shelves had been stacked in precariously steep towers, so that there was literally not a single inch without books. Carefully looking around, he suddenly found himself looking at a man’s chest. The man stood between two shelves, almost hidden completely, watching Will with curiosity.

“Sorry for that entrance,” he mumbled and walked into the shop as if he’d planned on being there all along.

The clerk appeared in front of him out of nowhere and in the moment of fleeting eye contact Will was sucked into a vortex of annoyance, anger, desperation and a deep rooting urge to punch someone. The image of a man with light brown hair and a piercing blue stare appeared behind his eyes and Will realized that this must be the source of the clerk’s anger.

Gasping and lifting his hands in defense, Will took a step back.

The clerk eyed him with narrowed eyes. “Can I help you, Sir?”

Stepping widely around him Will shook his head. “No thank you, just looking around.”

Will hurriedly made his way to the deepest corner of the shop and leaned against a shelf. He closed his eyes and cursed the adrenaline that was still running through his veins. It had brought cold sweat to his face and his shirt under the robe stuck to his chest and back.

“Are you sure you are alright?” asked a strange accented voice right next to him.

Will jumped in shock and dislodged some of the books from the shelves above him, while a stack next to him started to sway. Before everything toppled on his head and to the ground though, the other man drew his wand and stopped the fall of the books midair where they hovered for a moment before they carefully returned to their places. After a moment the spell wrapped around them faded and left them pulsing weakly in their own inherent magic.

Working his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture, he stepped away from the bookshelves.

“Thanks,” Will said. “I didn’t expect there to be so many people out on the streets today.” He had not intended to admit that out loud. Will frowned.

Fixing his gaze to the man’s chest, he only now realized that the man wasn’t wearing the usual wizarding robes, but a muggle three piece suit. He hadn’t seen it before, because the color scheme was most definitely fitting into the masses outside. The suit was plaid with dark red and bright blue stripes, a fitting waistcoat underneath and on top of everything a ridiculously large paisley tie.

His magic shone in a shade that reminded Will of a strong whiskey, but considering the effortless display of silent magic a moment before it was surprisingly muted and weak. The contradiction caused the hairs at the back of his neck to rise.

The wizard made an understanding noise in his throat. “Yes, the weeks before school starts again are quite busy ones with all the children buying their supplies for their new classes. It can be overwhelming when one isn’t used to crowds.”

There was an expectant pause and Will shifted uncomfortably. He felt the heavy gaze on him, studying him, and it made him nervous. He made a vaguely agreeing noise and moved to turn away.

“I guess I should be going then. Maybe I’ll come back another time.”

“Is it something particular you are looking for? Maybe I can help.”

Swallowing hard, Will shook his head.

“Right now, I just want to get back to the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Of course. It is by chance the same direction I am heading. May I accompany you?”

Will tensed and moved his stiff shoulder in a way that could be a shrug, “Sure, why not.” He just wanted to get away.

The man extended his hand. “My name is Hannibal Lecter.” Will almost snorted. Even if he had no clue the man was a wizard, his name would have given it away. The wizarding world had a very special relationship with complicated and age-old names.

“Will Graham.” He shook the offered hand and quickly pulled back again.

“Shall we?” He gestured towards the other side of the room where the door was located. It seemed to have moved closer to their position, so the clerk apparently was keen on them leaving already.

When they stepped out of the shop, Will threw a glance upwards and saw that he’d ended up in the shop called _Whizz Hard Books_. How charming.

Lecter threw a glance back over his shoulder, waiting for a sign that Will was ready to go. He gave a sharp nod and braced himself before he followed the man back the way he came.

He realized quickly what Lecter was doing. Walking half a step in front of him, he parted the crowd seemingly with his presence alone and Will moved in his shadow, unobstructed and free. He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or feeling embarrassed to have caused such behavior.

“Professor Lecter! What a pleasure to meet you here today!”

Will almost walked into the broad back as Lecter stopped abruptly and without a warning. Taking a look past him, Will saw a short plump man with a broad grin on his bearded face standing right in their way. His magic was almost non-existent, merely a soft yellow flicker around his heart. The look full of adoration and obsessive need in his eyes made Will hide behind Lecter again.

“Mister Froideveaux.” There was smooth friendliness in the deep voice, but it sounded off and Will tried to stop himself from analyzing it too much. Sometimes being a profiler caused annoying habits that made his life even more difficult than it already was. Focusing his attention on the shops around him, he ignored the two men for the time being. He became distracted by the fight between something huge and cat- like that obviously didn’t like one of the owls in the shop window of a pet shop.

 

After just a few moments Lecter started to walk again and when Will passed the other guy, he saw disappointment bordering on desperation. He even was wringing his hands, and Will wondered what had happened. 

“My apologies for that, Will,” Hannibal said to him over his shoulder.

Will took a moment to realize that he’d been addressed. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just,” he gestured to the window where now several witches and wizards tried to separate the two animals. Feathers and fur were flying everywhere, while a few kids cheered in front of the window, placing bets on who would win.

“Ah, yes. I gather this is your first visit to Diagon Alley?” Amusement was now evident in his voice.

“Yeah, my first visit to the UK in general. We don’t have such big and old wizarding communities in the US. At least not where I live.”

When the people finally managed to get the cat out of the window and the tumult died down, they continued their way up the street. Will tried to feel not too embarrassed about making Lecter wait with him.

“Where do you come from, if I may ask?”

“I live in a small place near Baltimore. I’d doubt the name would mean something to you.”

The sudden shift of atmosphere almost made Will stumble. He wasn’t sure what happened, but he was quite sure that Hannibal’s attention had snapped to him where it had been divided before, even though the man hadn’t shown any outward reaction.

“What brings you here then, Will? A visit of relatives or just some sightseeing?”

Will couldn’t put his fingers on what had changed, but the whole tone of their interaction seemed to have transformed. It felt sharper. There was an intent now, where there hadn’t been before. He felt that caution was in order here even though he had no idea why.

“It’s actually work, though I had hoped to see more of the country. Unfortunately it seems my visit will be very short-lived.”

When they finally reached the stone wall leading to the pub, Will took a deep breath. He welcomed the dimly lit room and the silence allowed him to relax a bit.

“I am sorry to hear that.” Hannibal regarded him with a piercing look and Will tried not to fidget.

Suddenly Will remembered something.

“That man, he called you a professor? Do you teach?”

Will stared at the top button of Lecter’s suit, hoping with held breath to get an answer that could help him with this case.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am a professor at Hogwarts. I’m sure you have heard of it?”

Will wondered if things actually would go his way for once.

“Oh yes, I’ve heard of Hogwarts. I always wanted to see the castle. It must be incredible.”

He was almost vibrating with nervous energy as Lecter looked at him, almost calculating.

“Why don’t you come to visit me? I do have some free time before school starts next week and I could show you around.”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be a problem, Professor Lecter?”

“Hannibal, please. It won’t be a problem at all, I assure you. The rest of the staff arrives one week before the children do, to prepare their classes and schedules, so we will have the castle mostly to ourselves. Would tomorrow suit you? I can pick you up here around 2pm.”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Will pushed his glasses back up his nose and felt himself shaking. He’d forgotten to eat this morning and he felt a bit faint now from the exertion, the unintended excitement, and now a possible solution to at least one problem.

Hannibal gave him a slight nod and extended his hand.

“It was a pleasure meeting you Will and I am looking forward to tomorrow. I wish you a nice evening.”

Shaking the warm and strong hand for a moment, Will contemplated how this almost seemed too good to be true before withdrawing and stepping back.

Their eyes met for the shortest moment and Will prepared for the usual flood of scenes and emotions. He almost did a double take when it didn’t come. For a moment he had no idea how to deal with the lack of overwhelming input, before he remembered that Hannibal had said something.

“See you tomorrow,” he forced out and with that he turned around and fled up the stairs. He felt the heavy gaze on him until he arrived at the next floor and only when it was gone Will realized how sharp it had been, almost slicing through him, reading him. He should have asked what exactly Hannibal was teaching.

Will shook his head. He was becoming paranoid before he’d even stepped a foot into Hogwarts.

_Hogwarts_.

He’d visit Hogwarts. The school that had the potential to bring out the greatest wizards of a generation. Or the worst.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal sees Will again sooner than expected.

Hannibal checked himself in the full body mirror one more time. His cream colored suit and vest sat perfectly, snug but wide enough to hide his well-trained physique that might raise eyebrows otherwise.

He was looking forward to seeing Will Graham, the mysterious and nervous man from Diagon Alley again.

Hannibal was quite sure that his assumptions were correct and Graham was an Auror from the Baltimore area, looking for something in Hogwarts. It was intriguing. He’d wondered if killing that wizard had been a miscalculation on his part, but he’d had left no traces and it had been 6 years since the man had set foot the UK. Plus, the Chesapeake Ripper had always been a solely muggle-centered problem. A wand should have been nothing but a harmless piece of wood for their investigators. 

Will Graham must have been at that crime scene and he must have found something besides the wand that brought him right into the center of his residence and workplace on the other side of the world in less than a week.

He couldn’t wait to see the man again and find out what made him so special besides his tendency to avoid eye contact and panic in crowds.

A quiet _pop_ in his living room area announced the arrival of a house elf.

He found the tiny creature standing in front of his fireplace, wringing its hands.

“Yes?”

“The H-Headmistress.” He winced at the high-pitched squeak, “she w-wants to speak to you, P-Professor Lecter.”

He lifted an eyebrow. How curious. He nodded and watched the elf pop out of the room again.

Hannibal straightened his jacket and made his way through the seemingly endless corridors and staircases. Sometimes it was highly inconvenient that it wasn’t possible for humans to Apparate* in Hogwarts as the house elves did, but the thought of having several hundred children flitting in and out of existence all over the place was a horrifying one.

He recalled all those stairs that changed direction on weekends and avoided the doors that didn’t open at lunch time, while he wondered what the Headmistress could possibly want from him. The next staff meeting wasn’t due for another two days.

His steps echoed between the stone walls and floors. There were no other sounds interrupting the silence but the occasional whisper of one of the portraits adorning the walls or a creak from the armors. He smelled dampness and dust, mixed with the soft traces of warm summer air and full vegetation. It reminded him strongly of his childhood home. 

A giant gargoyle statue was acting as entrance to the office and he called out the password “Florence”. The stone rumbled dangerously and with a groan the gargoyle moved far enough to open a passageway. He stepped onto the rolling staircase to let himself be lifted upwards to the office door.

Hannibal stepped into the room and was surprised to see the other head teachers already in the office, waiting.

He nodded his greeting and received nods in return.

Professor Katz, head of Gryffindor was standing near the window, leaning against the dark stone wall. Her robes were a glowing purple today, long black hair falling straight over her shoulders. She threw him a crooked grin, but shrugged with one shoulder. She, too, had no idea what was going on.

Professor Price, Head of Hufflepuff, sat in one of the armchairs, frowning at a scroll in his hands, a pair of pink ear muffs still around his neck clashing atrociously with his black-and-yellow robes. Spots of green and brown were visible on his sleeves and he smelled strongly of thyme. He probably hadn’t even realized Hannibal had entered the room.

Professor Du Maurier, Head of Slytherin glanced at him with a short nod, before looking forward again, watching the second entrance where hopefully the Headmistress would appear soon. Her elegant robes were a dark green, a sharp contrast to her light blonde hair falling in soft waves. Her posture was stiff and regal, as always, her face without expression.

Hannibal positioned himself near the fireplace and swallowed the urge to straighten his suit with an impatient gesture. He had an appointment to keep. He let his eyes glide swiftly through the office. It was clean and almost sparse. The only indications of this being a magical space were the portraits of the countless people who’d been Headmasters and Headmistresses before. Most of them were sleeping in their frames, barely twitching. Whispers of their breaths and soft snores ghosted through the quiet room. The only eyes meeting his were the icy blue ones of Professor Dumbledore, the most famous of them all. His eyes were sharp and calculating and Hannibal gave him a small nod in greeting and acknowledgement. 

Hannibal had always suspected that Dumbledore’s portrait was far more than just a mere shadow of the real man. He seemed much more aware and conscious of what was going on the in the castle than other portraits and Hannibal had always known that he had to be especially careful around him.

They didn’t have to wait much longer before Headmistress Crawford entered through a second door. Her dark skin was complimented by the soft pastel of her wide robes, curly hair pulled into a strict bun, accenting the form of her face. With sharp eyes, she looked at each of them before stepping forward, followed by another person.

Hannibal was difficult to surprise under normal circumstances, and yet here was Will Graham managing it twice in just two days as he stepped out of the back room behind the Headmistress.

The man stood behind her chair, his fingers working nervous patterns into the ends of his sleeves, his eyes hidden behind the thick frames of his glasses. He wanted to be anywhere but here, that much was obvious.

“This is Professor William Graham,” the smooth voice of the Headmistress spoke up. “He will replace Professor Lass in Muggle Studies, as there are still no signs of her whereabouts and when or if she will return. He’s a teacher from the Baltimore Wizarding Community and was brought to my attention just today. With school starting next week, I am ready to accept his offer to take over the spot until we find a local and more permanent replacement.”

Hannibal smiled softly.  
.,.,.,

The first days in Hogwarts went by faster than Will would have liked. After the initial open-mouthed awe at the beautiful castle, he had to memorize the way through the maze of the school corridors with its numerous tricks and traps if he ever wanted a chance at being punctual to his classes. More than once he ended up on the Astronomy Tower and it felt as if the castle constantly tried to lead him to the greenhouses. On top of working through the syllabus for his classes, he tried to get familiar enough with the other teachers to ask questions without having to resort to the last extreme measure of scanning their minds.

His rooms were bigger than the ones in his house in Wolf Trap, filled with old wooden furniture, massive and dark, but his windows faced the lake so he didn’t feel as if he would suffocate. He loved the huge fireplace with the soft rug in front of it and wished he could share it with his dogs. The pang of homesickness was sharp, but he swallowed it down. He had to concentrate on what he was here to find out.

The missing of Professor Miriam Lass seemed like a good point to start. It couldn’t be an accident that the young woman had vanished a few weeks back without any notice, while the Chesapeake Ripper was out hunting.

He’d told the Headmistress that he needed to check out Lass’ quarters, just in case, so that was his plan for after breakfast. Maybe he would be able to find something that pointed towards what happened to her and lead him to a trace of the Chesapeake Ripper. She’d readily agreed and Will was glad she seemed determined to give him all the support he needed after her husband and Head Auror had explained the situation. She had also insisted to not wait for the answer of the Minister of Magic. Apparently Minister Chilton didn’t have a high standing in her opinion.

Taking a last deep breath, he stepped out of his door just to almost stumble into Hannibal Lecter in one of his appalling suits. Various degrees of blue today.

“Good morning, Will,” the man greeted him fondly and with a nod.

Will grunted in reply, not really up to conversation before his first coffee. Lecter had proven to be quite resistant to his rude behavior which Will was endlessly grateful for. Having to deal with the hunt for the Ripper was bad enough without the staff making it more difficult.

“You’re going to be fine, Will. You only have to talk to them, not with them,” Hannibal spoke up, startling him.

Will threw him a confused glance before he realized what Lecter was talking about. He answered with a crooked grin in thanks.

“Am I that obvious?”

“No, you just generally look as if you are nervous or anxious about something, but everyone is afraid of their first school day as the new teacher.”

“Even you?” Will doubted that very much. The man seemed to have his emotions so well under control that even accidental eye contact hadn’t overwhelmed Will as it usually would.

“Even I,” came the amused reply. “You must have had that experience before, with being a teacher in Baltimore?” The question sounded innocent, but Will could feel the weight behind it. Lecter was testing him, prodding his edges to see where his weak points were. Knowing he had to give the man something to prevent suspicion, he shrugged.

“My students are older. They’re mostly happy if they don’t draw my attention. Kids will be different.”

Hannibal nodded in agreement. “Will I see you at the get together tonight? It is traditional for all the teachers to meet up in The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. A last celebration before the stressful school routine barely leaves time for that.”

Will pulled a face. He guessed it would be a chance to get closer to the other Professors and not stick out even more than he already did, both as the new one and being who he was. He eyed Hannibal.

“Will you be there?”

“Do you want me to be there?”

Will missed the last step they were currently walking down and only Hannibal’s quick reflexes prevented him from faceplanting onto the floor; the firm grip around his arm burned through the layers of his clothes. He pulled his arm away.

Straightening his robes in swift strokes, he glared at Hannibal’s chest, ignoring how the tips of his ears burned with a blush.

“Were you a psychiatrist in a previous life?”

That brought a small smile to full lips and Will felt his blush spread to the back of his neck.

“I will be attending tonight and I am looking forward to seeing you there.”

Will nodded and the last of the way they walked in silence that wasn’t too strained.

They separated in the entrance hall, Hannibal going up a different set of stairs into his classrooms, likely already having eaten his food in his quarters as the days before, while Will opened the big doors to the Great Hall.

He looked up to where instead of the ceiling an endless sky opened up above him. It was slightly cloudy today, sunshine peeking through here and there between fast moving clouds. Seeing it was still something of a punch to the gut, stealing his breath for a moment even after being here for several days now.

A hard clap on his back pushed him stumbling into the hall.

“Morning Graham. You ready for the kids arriving soon?” Beverly Katz threw her arm around his shoulder and dragged him forward. “No worries, Will. Just don’t show them you’re afraid. They can smell fear.”

He frowned and shrugged her arm off. “Thanks. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

She grinned widely. “I know. I’m awesome.”

He usually sat next to her at the teacher’s table, because she didn’t mind him not contributing to the conversation. Instead she talked over his head with Jimmy Price, who complained to her about a problem with his bee population.

When the rich breakfast appeared on countless plates and bowls in front of them, the conversation lulled and Will glanced around the table, taking stock of who was here.

The other side of the table was occupied by Brian Zeller, the Quidditch Instructor, who was digging into his bacon and egg sandwich, half his protection gear on the table, his broom leaning against his bench. He was loud and usually failed to keep his mouth in check and he definitely didn’t fully approve of Will being around and teaching Miriam’s class, but he was harmless, his magic of average strength toned a soft brown.

Next came Matthew Brown, the Professor for Care of Magical Creatures, a young man who looked exactly like a person who had to handle wild beasts daily: lean, strong, short cropped hair. He tended to stay to himself, a loner who tried to keep in the background and not draw attention. Will had no doubt that he knew about most of the things going on in the castle. His magic was stronger; a sharp white shine mixed with green, pulsing in steady beats through his whole body. 

Professor Tobias Budge, the Potions Master who came next was a friendly guy, always wearing a cordial smile on his face, but it never reached his eyes. Will had immediately disliked him. He was carrying his emotions like a mask to hide what lay underneath. At the moment he talked quietly to Bedelia Du Maurier, the Divination Professor. Their magic seemed to intertwine in the weirdest bloody colours and for some reason that made Will shiver in dread. His hunches were rarely ever wrong, so he decided to keep a closer eye on both of them.

All their magical abilities had the bright glow of talent but not overt power. As far as he could tell the Headmistress outshone all of them. She was a powerful and kind witch, well deserving of the respect of her staff. Only Hannibal remained a bit of an enigma, but Will had decided to pick at that particular problem at a later time.

In a moment of quiet between conversations, he turned halfway to Beverly.

“What do you think I should tell if the kids ask me where Professor Lass is?”

She chewed thoughtfully on a sausage for a moment before she shrugged.

“Unexpected family business? I don’t know. It’s weird for her to just leave. She was very serious and dedicated to her classes and I can’t see her just abandoning it for anything.”

“Did the Aurors investigate? Maybe something happened to her.” Will should have asked Auror Crawford for the file.

Price leaned into his right side to listen into their conversation and Will tried not to flinch away.

“They did. Came here for one day to interview us and check her rooms, but didn’t find anything. Haven’t heard anything since.” Beverly frowned and returned to eating after a moment.

The conversations around them quieted down and Will finished his pancakes and swallowed down his coffee.

A few moments later the morning owls arrived, descending in silence down to the table to bring the messages and packages to those they were meant for. When one of them landed right on his plate with a shriek, he shied away backwards.

He recognized the huge animal from Crawford’s office. It glared at him impatiently and Will decided he better not get on its bad side. He handed over a strip of bacon, and the owl held its leg out so he could unfasten the small scroll.

It was a short note from Auror Crawford saying that the latest victim of the Ripper had indeed been to Great Britain six years ago. There wasn’t any evidence that he’d been to Hogwarts, but it was enough for Crawford to finally fully support his investigation and offer all the help he needed.

With a sigh, Will pocketed the parchment. Crawford had introduced him to his wife, the Headmistress, to get him into the school, but it was good to know he had back-up now should he need it.

“Gotta do some more preparation,” he excused himself and got up from the table, ignoring the snicker from Beverly. Matthew Brown’s eyes were on him all the way through the hall, but they usually were. The young man seemed to have developed a slight obsession with him, but Will didn’t think he was the Chesapeake Ripper. Not enough sense for art and beauty.

The thought came out of nowhere and Will frowned at it.

Before leaving for the UK, he’d read through all the files of the Ripper murders, had looked at all the pictures and the impressions hadn’t left him. The displays had been artful. Swine made beautiful.

That was the only thing Will could say for sure. The murders were meant to make something beautiful out of something ugly. Everything else was a mystery. Why the Chesapeake area. Why in sounders of three. Why the trophies. How was everything connected to Hogwarts.

Rubbing his temples in frustration, he made his way to Miriam Lass’ room wondering if he wasn’t fishing in completely wrong waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Apparition is a magical form of teleportation, through which a witch or wizard can disappear ("Disapparate") from one location and reappear ("Apparate") in another. It is sometimes accompanied by a distinctive cracking or popping sound. _https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_in_Harry_Potter#Apparition_and_Disapparition_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening ends not as Will expected, but he shouldn't be surprised about the amount of blood it entailed.

The sun was just starting to sink towards the horizon when Will made his way from the castle to the little village called Hogsmeade. It was supposed to be the only place in the western world entirely inhabited by wizards and witches and the thought was intimidating.

He’d decided to forgo his robes anyway, because feeling comfortable in his skin was more important than fitting in tonight. He wore a simple dark button down and an old pair of pants, his wand attached in a holster to his belt instead of hidden in his sleeve. It already made him feel exposed and nervous to openly display his status as a wizard like that.

Will let his gaze roam over the mountains in the distance as he made his way down the path and he wished he could walk this trail with his dogs. They would love the fields and forests here, playing and hunting rabbits or bowtruckles* through the bushes. 

Cracking twigs and rustling of leaves stopped him in his tracks for a moment, but when nothing broke out of the bushes, he shook his head and continued his way until he could see the village in the distance.

He took a deep breath of warm air to calm his heart and after a few more minutes, he stepped between the first rows of small crooked houses, cobble stones grinding under his shoes. Will felt as if he’d stepped out from the 21st century right into medieval times. The vertigo was worse than in Diagon Alley. Even the air felt different. A low hum of magic filled the space all around him, making his skin prickle and his fingers itch.

There were still some people on the streets even though the shops seem to be closed, parents with their kids and young adults on their way to parties. Everyone was in robes, wands out sometimes, magic being openly performed. He saw bags floating ahead of people instead of being carried and wistfully he wondered how it would have been to grow up in the wizarding world.

The loud crackling of a spell somewhere on his left made him flinch and raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Flickering street lamps replaced the sunlight that was now blocked by the surrounding mountains.

Nobody paid him any attention and yet he felt watched.

The feeling of a heavy gaze on him made his stomach clench and he flexed his fingers, ready to draw his wand, but nothing happened on his way down High Street. The Three Broomsticks appeared in his line of sight and he quickly made his way past dark shop windows, stepping inside.

It was warm within, almost uncomfortably so and Will needed a moment until his eyes adjusted to the dim light of candles and small windows inside. The room was packed with tables and chairs, and most of them were occupied by people in robes of all kinds of colors. In the back he saw Beverly waving at him.

With a sigh, he made his way through the room, winding through tables and people talking loudly, drinking their butterbeer, firewhiskey or various other beverages. Seeing the drinks reminded him that he’d skipped lunch as usual and that he should be careful with the amount of alcohol he planned on drinking. The whole evening was set out to make him uncomfortable and he wished he could just turn around and leave again before things had any chance to turn extremely awkward.

“Will! I wouldn’t have expected you to actually turn up!”

She scooted further into a booth to make room for him and he sank gladly into the soft seats right at the edge of the aisle, happy to be able to escape quickly if he needed to.

“You really need to loosen up, man. You’re tense as if you’re facing a murder trial,” she grinned, oblivious to the way his hands twitched.

The arrival of several of the other teachers saved him from having to find an answer. Unfortunately he got pushed further into the booth and was now sitting between Beverly and Matthew Brown, all of them uncomfortably close together. Will felt sweat gathering between his shoulder blades and his nape prickled with nervous energy.

Will fought against submerging into the general cheerful crowd at the large table. It always was dangerous to sink into the mood of others, to get swept away in the softly floating magic and emotions all around him. The threat of losing himself in the overwhelming ocean of jovial waves was something he hated. He was close to actually getting up and leaving when the door opened again and Will just knew it was Hannibal who had stepped into the pub.

His presence was like cooling breeze gliding over his skin, but Will tried to ignore him as long as possible. Hannibal’s focus snapped to Will the moment he arrived at the table and their eyes met. It was as if they suddenly were alone. The silence in his head was almost deafening in its novelty. He took a deep relieved breath as the waves of emotions calmed down and he clung to the cool and calm aura the man exuded.

He shook off the paralysis and nodded to the man in greeting. Hannibal nodded back and Will felt a flash of amusement from him and he couldn’t stop himself from blushing.

Will still didn’t know why the man caused such an intense reaction in him in contradiction to the calm aura he radiated. He felt naked around Hannibal Lecter, who focused on him much more than any other person he knew. Surprisingly, it wasn’t entirely bad, but he felt exposed.

The sharp gaze was like a physical touch on his skin and he quickly dropped his eyes away from the angular face. The suit was a horrible ochre color today and Will was tempted to draw some rather disgusting and unflattering comparisons. His beer and the shot of firewhiskey arriving at the table caused the distraction he needed. He reached out for it, hoping the alcohol would ease his overwrought nerves.

The evening progressed as all events of this kind did. Loud, busy and almost impossible to avoid at least the occasional eye contact with so many people seated around the table. It left Will with a piercing headache and too many emotions and impressions that weren’t his own flitting through his aching head. All the while, he didn’t think Hannibal Lecter looked away from him for more than a few seconds at a time. Will was ready to jump out of his skin.

The high pitched scream cutting through the busy sounds in the pub with deafening force was almost welcome. Will reacted on instinct as he immediately shoved his way out of the booth past Matt, almost scrambling over his lap. Will knew screams like that. Full of panic, fear and absolute terror.

As he forcefully pushed through the entrance door, he found himself standing in the dark street illuminated by streetlamps and the orange light shining through the windows. Will felt Hannibal appear at his side, a solid quiet presence and he suddenly felt grateful not to be alone this time as he tried to find the source of the scream.

There was a faint sound from around the corner of the building and he drew his wand with determination and made his way there, all his senses on high alert, checking for the low alluring glimmer of dark magic in the air.

Will made his way carefully around the building, lifting a hand to indicate that Hannibal stay where he was. A quietly muttered Lumos illuminated the dark space, a sharp glow appearing at the tip of his wand and he almost flinched back into Hannibal. The alley was painted red with blood.

His eyes adjusted slowly to the light, taking in the chaos he found in front of him. Besides the blood he soon recognized part of a leg, foot still in its boot. He cursed as he almost stumbled over the piece of a torso, intestines hanging out. Will had to swallow hard. This was a massacre. His first thought was a werewolf, but werewolves weren’t known for slaughtering humans like this. Neither were vampires.

The alley turned out to be a dead end and Will carefully stepped deeper into the darkness. There wasn’t a lot left of the person and the magic in the spilled blood was barely more than a shine. The heavy silence hanging over him caused goosebumps to rise all over his arms. The sounds of the pub had vanished and nothing besides his slow steps and his too loud breathing was to be heard.

He found the rest of the body at the end of the alley. The head seemed to be still attached to parts of the neck and chest and Will realised with a sick feeling that it was almost unharmed. It was turned away, but Will knew the eyes would be open, unseeing and accusing, ready to suck him into the depths of what was left of their mind.

He threw a quick glance back, checking to make certain Hannibal hadn’t moved further between the two buildings to follow him. Then he took a deep breath. And another.

He slowly knelt down, carefully not to end up in a big mess, and reached out. His fingers met warm skin, sticky with blood and slowly, he brought the face around. The man stared up to him with blind eyes and before Will could even register the color of them, he fell.

It was rare that he got the chance to read someone killed so recently and he was shocked at the intensity of the first flood of impressions. Searing pain flashed through his skull when Will was sucked into the man’s mind, but he pushed through the onslaught of images of several decades of a lived life. Wave after wave of emotions and feelings of pain and fear crashed together over his head and he gasped, ignoring blurry pictures of people and sceneries until he finally found the memories he was looking for.

It never took long - the last moments of someone’s life were as stark, cold and bright as a full moon in a cloudless night sky. Diving into them felt like breathing shards of glass and Will let out a pained moan.

 _I’m walking down the street, alone, it’s warm and I’m slightly tipsy, the ground swaying under my feet, suddenly a pain in my side, the alley, a huge shadow, claws flashing, teeth bared in a feral growl, battered fur, long ears, glowing eyes_....t h e e y e s, _so deep and black and … I look down at the man. So small, so helpless, so clueless. You have no idea what I am, who I am. What I’ve accomplished to become what I always was meant to be. Powerful, free, MORE. I’ll show you._

Then. Nothing.

A hand on his shoulder and his name in his ears jerked Will back into the dark alley here and now. He desperately tried to get air into his lungs as he groped for the wand he’d dropped, fingers ending up covered in gravel and dirt made sticky by blood.

“Will!” his name, more forceful now. Will blinked in dazed confusion before he finally realized that Hannibal was kneeling next to him with an intense look on his face.

Their eyes met and he sank into swirling shadows and dark eyes with a soft sigh.

Instead of the onslaught of feelings and pictures he expected though, he only found indefinite space and black emptiness, filled with strong curiosity, detached and cold fascination, sharp interest and oddly, the weak white light of something else. He felt drawn to it. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he flew through the dark space towards the light. It got brighter and brighter the closer he got and it reminded him of something, but before he could find the source, a wall was yanked down in front of his face and he fell back into his own head.

“You’re a...” he gasped, heart and mind racing. He got to his feet swaying a bit in shock.

“I’m an Occlumens, yes. I can shield my mind, which is not surprising considering my occupation as Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. But you are a natural Legilimens and on top of that, you can look into the minds of deceased people, which I find even more fascinating.”

Will swallowed hard at the tone full of interest and curiosity. Usually people freaked out or viewed him with suspicion when they found out. This was new. Hannibal’s eyes were bright in the dim light of his wand and now Will knew why he could look at them without getting overwhelmed immediately. He flushed red with embarrassment when he realized he was staring.

“Don’t tell anyone. I’m the odd one as it is. They don’t need more fodder.” He looked around. “We need to call the police, or the Aurors, if nobody has done so yet.”

“Do you know what killed him? What did you see?”

Will was saved from answering by a policeman coming into view. His face turned green at the sight and he mumbled something about calling the Aurors before he walked backwards again. Will and Hannibal followed.

“Will!” Beverly greeted them with a grim face. “What the hell were you thinking?! It could have been who knows what in there!”

And suddenly, he remembered what he’d seen, what he’d experienced and he felt sick. He still felt the flesh under his claws, the bones crunching between his teeth, blood on his tongue.

“I think I’ll take Will back to Hogwarts now, Professor Katz. When the Police or the Aurors want to talk to Will, tell them where to find him, please.”

Will felt his hands shaking and with wobbly knees; he walked where Lecter led him back into the pub past the other teachers and guests. The fleeting contact of a hand on the small of his back made him tense up, but it vanished right away. He faintly heard him talking to the owner Madam Rosmerta while his mind still struggled to get rid of the feeling of absolute power he had felt when tearing into the man.

The adrenaline was still humming through his veins and Will shuddered in dread as he wondered if he was finally slipping into insanity as his doctors had predicted when he’d just been a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bowtruckle - An insect-eating, tree-dwelling wooden creature that is hard to spot.
> 
> *Legilimens - Wizard possessing the skill of extracting feelings and memories from another person's mind (Legimency)
> 
> *Occlumens - Wizard possessing the counter-skills to Legimency (Occlumency). Occlumens can can compartmentalise their emotions, or prevent a Legilimens from discovering thoughts or memories.  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is absolutely delighted over what has happened. He had expected a lot of Will, but he is exceeding his expectations.

Hannibal couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this thrilled about something or someone.

Watching Will Graham pace his living room in frantic and uneven steps after what had taken place in Hogsmeade caused his heart to beat heavily in his chest and for once, he let it. He wanted to physically feel the excitement as the blood rushed through his veins.

“Will? I made some tea. Maybe it will help to settle your mind.” He carefully handed him a hot cup once he’d managed to capture Will’s attention for a second. Amused, he watched his struggle between being polite and asking for something stronger. “If you prefer whiskey, I do have that as well.”

Will fidgeted with his glasses. “No, it’s fine. Tea is fine.”

Hannibal settled down in one of his large armchairs to watch Will while he stared unseeing into his cup. The flames drew beautiful shadows over his pale face with its flickering lights.

He had to reconsider his approach.

The danger of being around such a tremendously powerful and skilled Legilimens was immense. To stay in close contact was almost an open invitation to let him break through his mental barriers and to find things he shouldn’t find.

Hannibal was absolutely thrilled.

He marvelled at the gift the man had been born with. He’d read tales of someone like that in old and obscure tomes written in ancient times and Hannibal had never considered them to be actually true. Every direct eye-contact seemed to draw Will into someone’s mind, revealing thoughts, images, memories and emotions. It wasn’t a surprise that Will Graham was antisocial at best and close to hostile at worst when forced to interact with people.

Hannibal had felt him entering his mind in that dark alley and only his years of practice as Occlumens and Legilimens had given him the chance of shutting the contact down the moment it became noticeable. He wasn’t sure what Will had seen, but apparently it hadn’t been something of consequence.

He had to be careful though. When Will caught glimpses of what was under his perfectly crafted mask things would get out of control quickly. He had no doubt now that he was hunting the Chesapeake Ripper and his last kill had brought him here. The victim had recognized him and remembered where he had met Hannibal. That’s what had been on his mind the moment he died and Will had seen it. It was remarkable.

Tonight’s outcome had been worth the risk though. He hadn’t had a lot of time to construct the circumstances and things could have gone wrong, but he had to congratulate Randall Tier on doing exactly what Hannibal had orchestrated for him. Things have been set into motion and he couldn’t wait to poke and prod that brilliant mind some more to see what would happen.

Having made up his mind, Hannibal decided in this instance a direct approach would produce better results than caution.

“Will? You aren’t really a teacher, are you?”

Will tensed and sent him a sharp look. The piercing calculating stare, albeit directed at his chin, was so different from all their previous interactions it woke the predator in him. Hannibal’s hands itched for his wand. Or his knife. He suppressed a smile.

“What makes you say that?” The words were careful, but hard.

“No teacher would have gone into that alley, wand drawn, ready to investigate and face whatever they’d find. I have seen Aurors work and you portrayed their procedure in such circumstances perfectly.”

Hannibal watched as teeth caught a lip for a moment and he wanted to sink his teeth into that soft flesh to feel the hot blood run over his tongue. He could almost hear Will’s thoughts racing in his head, but refrained from looking deeper behind his blue eyes. He had no doubt that Will would be able to feel any kind of intrusion.

“Where were you last Saturday around 5 am local time,” he finally said.

Tilting his head, he pretended to think about it for a moment. “Last Saturday? I was with Alana Bloom. We had dinner after attending the muggle opera in London and were back here in Hogwarts around 10. We spend the night together.”

Will looked at him in surprise. “Alana Bloom? The school nurse?”

Hannibal inclined his head in agreement. “Have you met her?”

He watched in fascination when Will scratched the back of his neck in apparent embarrassment. He ignored the stab of dismay, deciding to examine that particular reaction later when he was alone.

“I saw her. I was planning to go up to the infirmary to ask for some potions tomorrow. I’ll ask her to confirm your alibi then.”

Hannibal filed the information about the potions away. This was something he might be able to use to his advantage at a later point. “Alibi? What for, if I may ask? Does it have anything to do with the murder in Hogsmeade?”

Will dropped into his couch with a sigh. The adrenaline seemed to have left him, leaving only tiredness. Hannibal greedily soaked in his exhaustion, watching him rub his eyes.

“I’m from the US American Auror Division, Muggle Liaison Department in Baltimore and teacher for profiling in Quantico.”

“I see,” Hannibal carefully kept his smile off his face. “So you’re here for an investigation? In Hogwarts of all places?”

Will grimaced. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Of course, I understand.”

When Hannibal saw Will gathering himself to get up, he decided to try one more push.

“Do you have someone with whom to talk about it?”

Will froze. “What?”

“What you saw in that man’s memories today must have been horrible, as you’ve been in distress ever since, but it wasn’t the first time you’ve gone through something like that. I’m guessing your gift is in high demand for such gruesome and difficult cases. Do you have someone you can confide in? To share what you see, to lessen the burden that is on your mind?”

Will’s face darkened and his mouth pulled down in a sneer. “I’m not fond of psychiatrists.”

Hannibal desperately wanted to ask, but he didn’t, because that’s what Will expected him to do.

“We could have simple conversations. No strings attached. Become friends.”

Will snorted. “And what will you be getting out of it? I’m not sure my company is worth the time you waste on me and what I’m seeing in dead people’s heads is not very tasty.”

It wasn’t a “No” and Hannibal tried to keep the feeling of triumph down.

“I am teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts. That field of study is seldom tasty and I have witnessed things well beyond what is called normal. I have enjoyed our time together and if I can help you to feel better it’s another bonus for me. You don’t have to tell me any details. It already should help you to deal with it in a better way.”

Will’s lips pulled down in an unhappy grimace and he fidgeted with his sleeves.

“You’re not planning on writing a book about me, right?”

For a moment Hannibal was genuinely surprised and Will must have sensed it.

“Forget I said that. I will consider it, okay?”

“Of course, Will. This is entirely up to you. I am just offering my help. Why don’t we meet for dinner tomorrow? Here in my quarters. I will cook for you and then you can tell me what you decided.”

Will shrugged with one shoulder. “Yeah, alright.”

Hannibal watched as Will got up, put his barely touched tea on the small table in front of him and made his way to the door. The urge to call him back and ask him to stay a bit longer was strong, but he stayed silent.

He refused to call it _giddiness_ when Will stopped before opening his entrance door. Hannibal held his breath when he turned around again.

“Are there reports of rogue werewolves in this region?”

“No, not that I am aware of. Is that what killed the man?” Hannibal leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, conveying his interest in listening and helping Will.

Will took a step back into the room.

“I’m not sure. It... _felt_ wrong. Too much intelligence and awareness and I don’t think it is a full moon?”

“No, no full moon. So what else could it be? It must have been big to cause such destruction.”

Hannibal watched fascinated as Will seemed to draw into himself, remembering, seeing, reliving whatever he’d see in that man’s memories. His hands flexed at his side and the need to open that brilliant head, reach for the pulsing brain and watch his mind work was strong.

“It was almost as big as a bear. It looked like a bear. But it looked like a wolf, too. Almost... patched together?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s stupid, I’m sorry, I’ll go now and leave you to your evening.”

Hannibal did not want him to leave and took another risk. “Maybe an Animagus?”

Will went still as a statue.

“I’ve never heard of someone being able to transform themselves into something like that. Would that even be possible?”

“Everything is possible when you possess the right skills and determination to go through with it.”

Hannibal watched Will starting to pace again, this time with an elated spring in his step, almost excitedly.

“It would explain the intelligence and awareness. An Animagus stays in their human mind when they transform into their animal form. This creature felt free and wild and they wanted blood, but it wasn’t the primitive want of an animal.” He flexed his hands again, as if he could feel flesh and bones between his fingers. Hannibal shivered.

Will’s eyes were shining as he explained what he found in the mind of the killer and Hannibal wanted to hold those mysterious orbs in his hands to look directly into their blue depths and see their secrets.

When Will shook himself free of the images, he looked embarrassed and ashamed and this wouldn’t do at all.

“I’m glad I could help, Will. I hope you will manage to catch whoever this killer is.” He put a calm and pleased note to his voice, reflecting a barely there shade of happiness so Will relaxed from the sudden tension that had entered his frame again.

“Thanks. I should really go now.”

He stayed silent, bathing in the awkwardness before he finally nodded and released Will Graham.

“Good night, Will. I hope you will be able to sleep. See you tomorrow.”

Hannibal watched him flee and a pleased smile played around his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Animagus - witch or wizard who can turn into a particular animal or magical creature at will. This ability is not innate: it must be acquired by magical means


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will meets Alana, but his mind is still in uproar from the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, betaed by my darling [Llew](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie/pseuds/Llewcie), all remaining mistakes are my own. <3

Will’s night turned into a restless and fitful ordeal full of nightmares despite the short respite he’d gotten in Hannibal’s room. Hannibal’s questions had managed to direct his mental anguish into a new direction, utilizing it while keeping it fresh on his mind. He’d almost managed to relax in the warm and dark space of that room.

Jack Crawford had opened a fireplace call shortly after Will had arrived in his quarters. It had been quite amusing to see the huge man on his knees, sticking his head into the greenish flames. He’d grilled him about the murder and Will had told him what he suspected.

Crawford had disconnected the call with a more or less satisfied grunt. Will had probably given him way more to work with than his Aurors. He hoped Crawford managed to discover that Animagus as he wasn’t too keen on finding another one of his victims any time soon.

Once he’d finally managed to retire to the huge bed in his enormous bedroom, he’d fallen into a disturbed sleep with too much empty space pressing down on him.

Images of claws ripping through flesh plagued him constantly, the exhilarating feeling of sated bloodlust, flesh between his teeth, and the taste of heat on his tongue. He’d woken up several times, soaked in sweat and with his heart beating fast after the hunt in his dreams.

Will had wrapped himself in several towels, hoping the rest of the night would pass quickly.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when he gave up on sleep and dragged himself to the bathroom. He stared into the mirror, eyes burning and so very tired. He was glad that this mirror was a quiet one.

Will made his way up to the infirmary a few minutes later, a steady headache pulsing behind his eyes. 

He wished he didn’t have to face Alana Bloom right now. The smart witch with the beautiful hair and the sharp eyes would see right away how bad off he really was at the moment and he had no intention of answering any probing questions about his condition.

He just needed some potions and for her to confirm Hannibal Lecter’s whereabouts at the night of the murder. He had no idea how to even start that conversation without either sounding like a total creep or having to explain the whole story of why he was here.

Will stood in front of the entrance for what felt like minutes, taking deep breaths to calm his pulse, sucking in the smell of early morning dew, old castle and and magic. An old suit of armor was creaking somewhere to his left.

Finally opening the huge wooden double doors to the infirmary, he stepped into the wide room flooded with morning sunlight. Empty beds stood in long rows at the opposite walls, sheets neatly made. The scents of herbs wafted through the air, mixed with some sharper scents of potions and freshly brewed remedies. It was so much better than the chemical smells suffocating muggle hospitals. Will just stood there for a moment, taking in the atmosphere and at a loss for where to go.

A side door partly hidden behind a protection screen opened and Nurse Bloom stepped through it, wearing her white uniform over a strikingly red blouse. After he’d glanced into the general directions of her eyes, Will kept his gaze on a beautiful necklace on her chest as she approached. Her magic was a soft yellow pastel and it curled around her almost like blooming vines. She was definitely one of the more powerful people here.

“Oh hello! You’re the new professor! We haven’t properly met. I’m Alana Bloom, the school nurse.”

She stepped towards him and stretched out her hand with a smile in her voice.

He quickly wiped his hand on his pants before reaching out and shook her hand for a moment. He could feel the magic running in electric pulses under and through her skin.

“Will. Will Graham, the new Professor for Muggle Studies.”

“It’s nice to meet you Will. Call me Alana. What can I do for you? I doubt you’re here just to say hello.”

The knowing tone in her voice made him cringe inside.

“I just need some pain killer potions against my headaches.”

“Headaches? This sounds as if you experience them often. How bad are they?”

Her voice had turned into the professional mode of someone who was working now and Will wanted to run. He hated doctors.

“They’re not too bad and most of the time I can ignore them, but sometimes they get too strong and I need to take something. Just give me some of the usual stuff.”

He could practically feel her misgivings prickling against his skin with her next words.

“Have healers checked those headaches? There must be a reason for them being so frequent. I would like to run a quick scan, if you don’t mind.”

His whole insides clenched in panic and for a moment he had trouble breathing, but he needed the potions and the information, so he gave a jerky nod. He pulled at his sleeves as he followed her to what looked like her office and Will was glad they left the wide space of the bed hall.

The office was smaller and darker and he took a relieved breath, trying to get his flight reflex under control. Surprisingly, he found himself wanting to return to the comfort of Hannibal’s quarters. Their talk must have left a bigger impression on his mind than he thought.

Will sat down in the chair she pointed to while she turned and drew her wand. He tensed and gripped the armrests of his chair tightly, wishing he could be back on Hannibal’s couch, staring into the warm fire. She finally seemed to realize how bad off he was and hesitated.

“You’re not fond of examinations, are you?” She sounded concerned and it grated on his nerves.

“No, I’m not. I’ve been checked before. A lot. There’s nothing to be done besides giving me something against the pain,” he pressed out between clenched teeth.

After a moment’s silence, she seemed to come to a decision.

“Alright. But I want to try something at least. I won’t give you the usual potions. We have a very good Potions Master in Hogwarts and he’s creating more potent brews than what you get in apothecaries. I want you to tell me if they help better than what you’ve taken before and if the side effects lessen.”

Will nodded, relieved, and watched her starting to rummage in the cabinet behind the desk.

“Thank you,” he said belatedly.

He took a deep breath and relaxed his cramped fingers. He wrecked his brain for all the times he’d been subjected to terrible small talk, trying to find something to get the information he needed.

“So, what kind of things do you do while the school is empty? It must be boring?”

He swallowed, desperately hoping that the question came off as innocent and harmless and not as stilted and forced as he feared.

Alana turned around with a gentle smile while she put several vials on her desk. Will could see why Hannibal was spending his time with her. He resolutely shoved that thought and the sting of something else away.

“On the contrary. I like the quiet. During school weeks there’s barely time to breathe. The students have the uncanny ability to find all possible and impossible ways to end up here and keep me on my toes. I finally can concentrate on other things during summer. I do some research, reading books, going out. Last week I was at the opera in muggle London. So truly fascinating to see the Muggles in their natural world.”

The relief at hearing this was staggering and surprising in its strength.

He realized, the thought of Hannibal being a suspect for these horrendous crimes would have made him sad. The man had something on him, something soothing, once the first intense and overwhelming impression left.

Will shook his head to clear it.

“Muggle London? That must have been overwhelming. Even for Muggles it can be too much and too big and loud.”

“Oh, it was!” She placed some more vials in front of him. “But I had very good company. Hannibal, the professor for DADA, he accompanied me and he visits the muggle world quite often. He knows his way around and helped me not to get lost, just like the perfect gentlemen he is.”

Alana threw him a brilliant smile and Will squirmed in his chair, concentrating on what she’d placed in front of him. Now that he knew what he needed to know, his social skills had left him again.

“Okay, Will. I will give you these two.” She handed him two small bottles, one green with purple markings winding around the neck, the other a dark brown with yellow markings.

“The green one is a potion with Dong Quai and Honeysuckle. It’s for a light amount of pain. Taking a wild guess, I’d say you’re someone with a high threshold of pain tolerance and probably bites through pain where others would already seek help. I want you to break that habit and take a tiny swallow of this as soon as you feel the headache starting. I am hoping to prevent them from ever becoming more.”

Will took the bottle she offered with chagrin. She’d gotten a pretty good reading of him after such a short time.

“The brown one is for the strong pain; the one that made you come here in the first place. It’s with Featherfew and Butterbur. Take a tiny sip of it only, because it does have the side effect of making you very sleepy when you take too much at once. Take it only when the green bottle potion didn’t help or you forgot to take it in the first place and let the pain get too strong.”

Will hugged the bottles and scrolls with instructions to his chest and stood.

“Thank you,” he murmured, trying to look as close to her eyes as he could manage without falling into her mind. He got a whiff of sharp curiosity and quickly turned around before he could let it sour his impression of her.

He’d gotten what he came for – an alibi for Hannibal.

Maybe now he could shake that bad feeling he was enjoying the man’s company more than he should.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is trying to keep his nerves in check during his dinner with Hannibal and so far it's not really working. Thank god there's a murder to end the night on a high note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Llew for your wonderful beta work again!

A few hours after Will had run from the infirmary, he found himself in front of the marble archway to Hannibal’s quarters. His rooms were placed deep underground with walls made of rough stone and only scattered torches illuminating the tunnels. Some paintings were placed in between, mostly sunny landscapes to lighten the impressions of medieval torture dungeons. Most of them were vacated, the people in them probably finding better places to hang out.

For some reason Will had expected Hannibal to live up near the towers and he was unsettled by his miscalculation. He knew he had been here the night before, but they’d arrived through the Floo Network, travelling from the fireplace in the pub to Hannibal’s huge one and when he’d left, he had barely paid attention to his surroundings, his mind still racing. What reason would Hannibal have to live down here when it would suit him so much better to be placed near the classrooms and the Great Hall?

A movement at the end of the hallway caught his eyes and with a shiver he saw one of the ghosts come through a wall and cross the corridor to vanish in the opposite wall. He thought he could almost feel the cold air accompanying it.

Then Will remembered why he was standing here and his nervousness returned tenfold. He’d debated for an embarrassingly long time over what he should wear and with a feeling of dread he’d decided to wear his best dress pants and a dark blue button down shirt. Muggle attire. Comfortable and familiar, but still dressed up. He was pretty sure Hannibal would be pleased with his choice which in return would make him feel better. Will began to doubt his own sanity.

He’d rarely bothered to please people before, but he couldn’t ignore the patience and gentleness with which Hannibal had handled him after the Hogsmeade murder even after what he’d found out about Will. He felt as if he owed Hannibal to at least be at his best possible behavior tonight.

Will knew that even his best behavior was off-putting to most people, but Hannibal wasn’t most people and he had the feeling that he hadn’t even scratched the surface of what was hiding under the smooth and almost soft appearance.

The fact that he couldn’t read the man, despite being able to look him in the eyes without problems, was a siren call that drew him to his company like a moth to the flame. Will could even imagine spending time with a person outside of work for the first time in a long while and it made him feel like a teenager, which was mostly unpleasant and nerve wrecking.

Will swallowed hard and tried to moisten his dry mouth.

With a last deep breath, he drew his wand and pointed it at small painting of an old fashioned door bell, something Beverly had to explain to him when he saw it the first time around the castle. A soft chime sounded through the gloomy hallway and a moment later the door swung open and Hannibal appeared with a warm smile on his face and soft eyes.

He dropped his eyes quickly, expecting the usual backlash of emotions that didn’t come; he hunched his shoulders up and awkwardly adjusted his glasses. That would take some time to get used to.

“Good evening, Will. Please come in.” The warm and gentle voice pulled him out of his embarrassment.

Thankful that Hannibal had ignored his less than smooth reaction, he followed the man into the warm candle-lit living room. He wore a dark grey, almost black suit today, checkered with thin blood red stripes. Elegant and chosen to impress. Maybe he’d seen Will’s reaction to his more… colorful variants.

The smell invading his nose the moment he stepped into the wide space was overwhelmingly delicious. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Wow. That smells good.”

“Thank you. Please have a seat. Dinner will be ready to be served in a few minutes. Would you like a glass of wine in the meantime?” Will shuffled ahead of Hannibal awkwardly to sit on his opulent sofa.

“Yeah, some wine would be nice, thanks.” He needed liquid courage. Badly.

Hannibal inclined his head and went to the corner where a crystal bar held countless bottles of various kinds of drinks. The colorful glass bottles and liquids reflected the light endlessly, sparkling in the mirror behind the glass cabinets and on the ceiling like fairy lights.

Will stared at the broad back and shoulders and twisted his hands in his shirt sleeves, wondering what he was doing here. Was this a date? Was this flirting? Did Hannibal want it to lead somewhere or was he just nice and trying to find a way to poke at his brain?

As the Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts it must itch under his skin to get to know more about Will’s ability, how it worked and how he could maybe even learn to use it himself. Will frowned and averted his eyes, letting his gaze wander through the wide space of the room.

Thick carpets, elegant dark wooden furniture and sombre wallpapers in dark colors of blue, brown and red made the room appear almost cave like, but tasteful. The skulls and antlers might be a bit over the top, but Will had seen worse. With surprise Will realized he saw mostly muggle paintings; their stillness feeling weird after being around the murmurs of people moving in their frames alongside him wherever he walked in the castle. _He doesn’t like to be watched, his mind whispered._

Only one single painting seemed to be of magical origin. A skeletal black forest drowning in deep snow. It looked cold and bleak. Will saw bare branches move in a sudden gust of wind and snowflakes danced in the air. There were a pair of tiny footprints visible and Will shivered. There was a coldness and hopelessness to the scene that went deeper than expected.

“Will?”

He jumped in surprise and blinked up to the man standing in front of him, holding a glass filled with dark red wine. With the flames shining through it, it almost looked like blood and Will swallowed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and took the glass gingerly into his hand. Their fingers brushed for a moment, and Will felt the electricity spark up his arm like a bolt.

It was still incredibly weird to not feel someone’s intentions from a mile against the wind. Hannibal felt like an empty spot in an empty room and it was disconcerting. Especially now, when he desperately wished for some knowledge and reassurance.

“You are uncomfortable.” He could almost hear the curiosity in the words and Will snorted and looked up, determined to make eye contact. His determination died around the height of the red paisley tie and he cursed himself.

“I am not used to situations where I am alone with one person and I’m expected to be sociable. It never ends well, so I am basically waiting for the evening to go to hell and I don’t want that, so I am… tense,” he ended lamely.

“I understand. Would you like to help me set the table while I put the finishing touches to the first course? In my experiences it helps to have something to do to distract one from overthinking everything.”

Will nodded and immediately got up, misjudging how close Hannibal was actually standing and suddenly they were almost chest to chest. He stumbled back automatically, sloshing the red wine all over his shirt. Hannibal’s arm shot out to stabilize him before he fell backwards over the small couch table.

“Shit,” he cursed as he saw the red liquid drip down over his hand and onto the horribly expensive looking carpet.

“Do not worry. I am quite skilled with spells to remove stains out of fabrics,” Hannibal said. He sounded gently amused and Will thought that was worse than getting shouted at.

The heat of Hannibal’s grip around his arm slowly seeped through his shirt and Will wished he would let him go so he didn’t have to blush so horribly. With a slow glide down Will’s forearm, Hannibal finally let go and drew his wand with a swift movement.

One graceful twist of his wrist later the stains were gone from the carpet as if they never had been and his shirt and wrist were clean and dry again. Only a soft wisp of whiskey colored smoke was left wavering through the air.

Right.

Magic.

Will would probably never get used to all the neat tricks and casual use of magic even after working within the magical community for years now. Especially the almost careless display of a silently cast spell sent a shiver down his spine. Only a very skilled and quite powerful wizard managed that as effortlessly as Hannibal had just shown.

“Thanks. And sorry.” Will scrubbed his nape with his hand in embarrassment, hoping the heat in his face wasn’t as glowing red as it felt. For a moment Hannibal just stood there. Too close, too intense, as if bathing in his discomfort. Will shoved that ridiculous notion away.

“There is nothing to apologize for. Please come. The dining room is through here.”

Hannibal stepped away and turned around, finally giving Will enough space to take a deep breath. With a last glance back to the winter painting, he steeled his resolve and followed the man through a thick red curtain into the next room trying to ignore how it felt as if entering a lion’s den.

He stopped dead on his tracks once the curtain fell close behind him.

The room was dominated by a dark wooden dining table surrounded by eight fitting chairs. An outrageously huge centerpiece covered half of the tabletop. Will could see orchids and more skulls. One side of the room seemed to be used as an herbal garden, the whole wall covered in several rows of small and delicate plants. Will drew in a deep breath to fill his lungs with the intense smell of rosemary and thyme among countless other herbs.

He forced himself to move a moment later and followed Hannibal through another door. For a second, he thought he’d stepped through a portal into another world. He stood in a room that was the perfect display of a modern kitchen in the muggle world. Counters, oven, cupboards, gleaming technical appliances, all of them right out of a muggle house.

Will had to grip the door frame to remind himself that he was really here and not in America back in the muggle world.

“Where even do you get the electricity for these?” he blurted.

Hannibal froze in his movements to put what looked like salad on a plate and stared at him for a second before continuing. Will cringed internally.

“A valid question. With the Headmistress’s permission I had a muggle solar panel installed on one of the towers. It is sufficient for the small amount of electricity I need.”

Will shuffled closer, hands stuffed into his pockets and shoulders hunched.

“Sorry.” He felt like a broken record with the amount of apologizing he was doing tonight. “When I’m out of my depth I…” he shrugs helplessly.

“It’s quite alright. No harm done.” Hannibal straightened up and started to assemble more ingredients on the green leaves. Will had no idea what half of those were and why they all needed to be in the salad, but he couldn’t help but admit that it looked amazing. For a salad.

“The most challenging part of installing my own kitchen was to convince the house elves that I really don’t mind to cook for myself. They constantly emptied my cupboards to replace my ingredients with cooked meals from the school kitchen.”

He sounded so put out about that that Will had to hide his smile behind a cough.

Hannibal definitely seemed to be in his element here. He moved smoothly, almost like a dancer, from one side to the next, assembling, decorating, creating, hands nimble and elegant. It was mesmerizing and Will could have watched for hours.

He tore himself away from staring and finally did what he wanted to do, grabbing their wine glasses and the laid-out cutlery to set the table. He placed Hannibal at the head of the table and himself on his right side, in an attempt to prevent a face to face setting. He wasn’t ready for that, too ingrained was the habit of avoiding direct eye contact.

Hannibal entered the room a few moments later, distracting Will from examining the grotesque center piece. He was quite sure one of the skulls in there was from a magical creature. At least it looked like nothing he’d ever seen with its three small horns.

“A Caesar Salad with chicken, mushrooms, vegetables and sprouts, served with rolled anchovies and roasted garlic.”

Hannibal placed the plate in front of Will with a flourish worth a five star restaurant before he refilled their wine and took a seat. He lifted his glass in a toast.

“To colleagues and new friends,” he said with a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

Will hesitated a moment trying to decipher the feelings the words caused in him. There was an equal amount of warmth and pleasure as there was dread and alarm. Pushing through it, he finally pressed out the mirroring words.

The sharp smile appearing on Hannibal’s face was hidden immediately by the glass and after taking a small sip there was nothing left of it. Will probably had imagined it.

The salad was delicious and he eagerly dug in not having had anything to eat since a hasty breakfast.

“This is good. I’m usually not a salad guy, but this is awesome,” he said between bites, remembering in time to swallow before opening his mouth. He had a feeling Hannibal would be more cross for something like that than for the spilled wine. Don’t be rude, his mind supplied. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Thank you.” He sounded very pleased and Will took a relieved breath.

“How old were you when you discovered you were a wizard?”

The question was unexpected and the light mood fizzled away. Will swallowed hard. He didn’t ask how Hannibal knew that he hadn’t been born into a wizarding family. It probably was as obvious to him as a foul apple in a bowl of pears.

He glanced up to Hannibal and found the intense gaze locked to his eyes. There was a sharp spike of calm interest and distant fascination and Will knew Hannibal let it through his shields on purpose. He wondered if it was supposed to spur him on or make him run or if Hannibal just wanted to see what he would do.

“I didn’t have the courtesy of an owl knocking on my window to bring my first school letter when I was eleven, if that’s what you mean.” He knew he sounded defensive and with some stiff movements, he finished his salad.

Hannibal took his napkin and to dab at his lips.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did. Just because you can shield your mind doesn’t mean I am clueless when I can’t get into your head,” Will snapped and then deflated immediately after. There was an expectant silence now and Will swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I am not used to people asking questions to get to know me instead of trying to pry my life and my mind apart to study it.” Will groaned and wanted to sink into the ground.

“I was 28,” he shouldered on, intent on repairing the damage he probably had caused. A peace offering.

“It’s quite alright. I can see how my question might have been taken wrong,” Hannibal said. His voice was soothing and calm and Will relaxed, looking up past the frame of his glasses and through his curls.

Hannibal didn’t look angry. He looked… delighted? He hadn’t taken any offense at Will’s rudeness at all, which was such a huge change from his usual experiences that Will suddenly felt the need to answer the man, to start talking about things he’d never told anyone before. It froze him to the spot, rendered him unable to actually move or say anything.

“Twenty eight is quite an old age to discover something as integral about yourself as magic. Most children display magical talent by accident during the first years of their life.” He sounded inquisitive and curious, but it lacked the leaching eagerness people usually portrayed when taking an interest in his life and abilities. Will swallowed hard. 

“Empathy disorder,” he simply said, finishing his wine as he stared at his empty plate.

Hannibal let out a soft questioning noise.

“It’s what the Muggles called my ability to know everything about what a person is and did and thought. You know how inventive they can be when there are things happening they don’t have an explanation for.”

Will recalled the endless therapy sessions and probing questions, ravenous like vultures circling over a carcass. He’d never forgiven his dad for letting his happen. 

He let his eyes twitch up to Hannibal’s face for a moment. His face was a mask of intense concentration and understanding and Will could feel himself blush at the almost gentle scrutiny. He felt as if Hannibal knew exactly what it entailed to be considered everything but normal in the Muggle world and Will suddenly was curious about the man who behaved so far outside of what he knew.

Hannibal’s face softened.

“Thank you, for telling me. It must have been difficult. Were your parents not equipped to deal with the situation?”

Will bristled instinctively at the accusation before he caught himself. Hannibal was right after all.

“My father…” he hesitated for a moment before deciding to fuck caution for once. “My father had no idea what to do with me and my mother wasn’t there. I never got to know her. I think…” He took a deep breath. “I think she was a witch and couldn’t deal with living in the Muggle world. Maybe she looked at me and saw what I could do and decided it was better to leave. Or maybe both.” He said with bitterness and resignation.

“Nonsense,” Hannibal scolded and Will looked up at the vehemence.

“Your mind is magnificent and you are not at fault for the shortcomings of your parents.”

Will blinked in surprise. There was no pity, no false sympathy and the lack of either of them was like a shot of adrenaline through his veins. The man was actually convinced of what he was saying and for the first time Will believed someone who told him that it wasn’t his fault.

He watched as Hannibal got up suddenly to pour them more wine and to take their empty plates into the kitchen to get the main course. The room felt suddenly so much larger when the heavy presence of the man was not there anymore.

Will took a deep breath and swallowed some more wine.

He couldn’t remember if he’d ever had such an intense dinner. He couldn’t get any sort of reading on Hannibal and it started to irk him.

What game was he playing? Was there a game? There was a weight to the man. A heaviness in his being and behavior and he wondered what it could be. Will refused to call it darkness, although he knew that Hannibal had been one of the suspects for the murders in Baltimore and if there wouldn’t be that alibi, he would still consider him on top of the list. He has the skills and Will had no doubt that he had the mindset.

Will swallowed and sighed hard.

He had to come to a decision. Was he going to accept the comfort of someone on his side, someone as strong and capable as Hannibal, or was it better to fight his battles alone but without the danger of someone betraying him or playing with him to their own gain.

Will listened to the sound of plates and cutlery in the kitchen and imagined Hannibal decorating their meals. This man was an enigma. There was so much more to him than he let anyone else see and Will wanted to get to know the creature underneath.

He knew he’d go back to Wolf Trap as soon as he found the Chesapeake Ripper and the Animagus Killer, but in the magical world such distances weren’t as much as a hindrance as in the Muggle world. There were ways to see each other regularly despite an ocean between them. If Will decided to let Hannibal pursue him and enter a relationship with him Will going back home wouldn’t be the end of it.

His heart has started to beat heavily in his chest as he realized what he was thinking about.

Will wiped his moist palms on his trousers and he could feel a blush heating his ears. It was ridiculous. He wasn’t good at relationships, but he could see himself with Hannibal. He could try. If the man was willing. Will was quite sure that there had been flirting going on between them since the first day they met.

When Hannibal entered the room with two plates in his hands, Will opened his mouth, ready to blurt out whatever his brain let him, but a loud Pop prevented any sound coming out.

Will looked down and there was a house elf wringing his hands in desperation.

“Master Graham,” it shrieked. “The Headmistress demands you come to the greenhouses. Something terrible has happened!” it wailed and vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared next to his chair.

Will jumped up immediately, ready to excuse himself, but Hannibal had already put the plates on the table and was currently throwing a wide black cloak over his shoulders.

“We should go. I know some shortcuts through the castle.” His voice was calm but hard, and Will knew there was no way Hannibal would stay here. He took a relieved breath.

“Let’s go then. Lead the way.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up and Will gets close and intimate with a murderer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. HERE'S A NEW CHAPTER. FINALLY. BUT LISTEN.
> 
> After writing this fic for so long now, I realized that I didn't like some of it anymore. So I rewrote most of the epilogue and changed smaller and bigger things throughout all chapters. I am sorry for those who have been following this fic from the beginning. I'd suggest rereading to catch all the changes and for the new chapter to make sense to you, but that is probably a bit too much to ask. I AM SO SORRY. (date: 2017/11/02)
> 
> For those who don’t want to reread - the biggest change I added was Will’s ability to see magic as a colourful impression surrounding people. Everyone has a unique colour code to their magical abilities.

Will’s heart was hammering in his chest while he followed Hannibal through the castle. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he was scared or elated and that uncertainty had his stomach twist itself into knots. Hannibal’s black coat billowed after him, brushing against Will’s side as he tried to keep up with his long strides.

They were turning around corners, stepped through archways and ducked behind statues and after a few minutes, Will realized he knew most of those turns.

He stopped in his tracks.

Hannibal took a few steps before realizing that Will wasn’t behind him anymore. He turned around, eyebrows raised.

“Will?”

His thoughts were racing as he turned around to look through the small alcove they were standing in. He’s been here before.

“I know this might sound crazy, but I think the castle has tried to lead me here? I have gotten lost several times last week and I always ended up at the greenhouses. I have been here before. ” He waved his hand into the general direction of where they were heading.

Hannibal walked back to him slowly, head tilted. “The castle is known to show its preferences by leading people wherever it thinks they are needed. Maybe there has been something in the greenhouses that you were supposed to see.”

Will ducked his head to avoid the intense stare Hannibal directed at him. He felt like standing in a bright spotlight, the heat of it prickling over his skin.

“We should go and see what the castle wanted to show you,” Hannibal finally said and turned around to keep on walking. Will took a deep breath and followed after a moment.

They stepped into the fresh night air a few minutes later and Will took a deep breath to find some semblance of calm in himself. He smelled moist grass and the lake nearby and a cool wind chased the gloom away. The moon stood high in the violet sky, the sun having sunk behind the mountains just a few minutes ago. It left the ground bathed in a weirdly glowing dark blue while the greenhouses rose ahead of them, looking like purple ghosts hovering over black tar.

Will saw lights moving in the growing darkness and he clenched his hands at his side in nervous anticipation. Hannibal didn’t falter and Will kept walking behind him as helplessly as if sucked in by a boat’s bow wave.

Agitated voices echoed through the otherwise dead silent evening. After passing a row of trees, Will finally saw several people milling around, frantically gesturing. Their magic wavered like auroras through the air and several wands shone like fireflies glittering in the dusk atmosphere.

The Headmistress came towards them when they were close enough to be noticed. 

“Gentlemen,” she said. Her voice was serious, her face grave. The light of her wand painted her dark face in eerie shadows. 

“What happened?” Will asked, ready to vibrate out of his skin. 

“Professor Price found her on his last round through the greenhouses.” 

She turned away and led them behind a few bushes where the others stood. Will saw Beverly and Alana Bloom who had an arm around Jimmy Price’s shoulder. He didn’t look so much distressed as deep in thought. Alana threw a short look towards Hannibal, but when Will followed her gaze he found Hannibal’s attention on the ground ahead of them.

The first thing Will spotted were fiery red curls spread over damp grass. They belonged to a small and slim body whose limbs stood in all the wrong angles and robes were soaked in a dark and shiny liquid, black in the dim light. _Blood._

“Do we know who this is? She is not familiar to me.” Hannibal’s voice was distant while Will searched for other clues around the body. 

“Alana said she’s a reporter. Freddie Lounds. She has her own magazine since she got fired from the Daily Prophet. She is specialized in more… sensational news. I have no idea how she or her murderer got on the grounds. The wards are centuries old and strong,” the Headmistress answered.

The ground around the body was torn up and Will could clearly see the impressions of huge claws in the fresh earth. Will knelt down and reached out to the reporter’s turned away face.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“We should maybe wait for the Aurors before changing something on the scene,” Hannibal’s voice said next to his ear. “Alana and Beverly can take care of Professor Price, while the Headmistress calls the Ministry. We can keep an eye on the surroundings.” The last part was accompanied by the hand squeezing down and Will realized what Hannibal meant. 

Will got back up and nodded. 

Hannibal’s hand stayed on his shoulder and Will felt giddy at the thought of them conspiring like this. They would wait until everyone was gone and then he could check the reporter’s mind. He kept his face blank and his eyes on the ground as Hannibal sent the rest away. 

His pulse was racing in anticipation and for the first time in his life, he felt like he was about to _show off_ with what he was capable of. 

He watched them all go and then Hannibal turned around and his eyes were glittering in the moonlight. His face was all sharp angles in the receding light. Will just nodded, words stuck in his throat. He knelt back down next to Freddie Lounds’ still body and when he met her dead stare, he pushed into her lost mind with vigor. 

Will found the bright flash of her death quickly, but he dove past it for now, further back into her mind. He felt her tension sneaking through a dark tunnel, into the spaces between the glass houses, clutching her camera. She was looking for someone. She’d gotten a secret tip to identify last night’s murderer and how to get onto the grounds undetected to find him. 

She had found him just fine, but her murderer was less than amused when she stumbled upon his hide out behind the bee hives. Will saw the pale face of a young man contorted in fury before it turned into the huge muzzle of the bear-wolf-hybrid. She never stood a chance. 

The pain of claws and sharp teeth made Will groan out loud and before the life left Freddie’s body, he saw the big animal run towards the Forbidden Forest. 

He tore himself out of her fading mind with a gasp. Hannibal was kneeling next to him, eyes glued to his face, taking everything in. Will got the indistinct impression that the man would love to look into his brain. Not magically. Literally. 

He shuddered and got up from the wet grass. 

“Did you see the murderer?” Hannibal’s voice was calm and neutral with nothing indicating that he was affected by the situation at all.

Will nodded. 

“A young man. He has a place where he hides here. Ran towards the forest after the attack.” Will had already started walking towards the edge of the forest, following the path a dying Freddie Lounds had seen in her last seconds. The lake was to his right, the moon reflecting in glittering shards of silver. 

He could hear Hannibal walking behind him. Will hadn’t expected him to protest against walking into the Forbidden Forest at night and it gave him a sense of security that he was right. He started to get a feeling for who Hannibal was. 

The Forbidden Forest apparently was full of magical creatures, most of them everything but harmless. He had gotten a lengthy lecture about it from Matthew Brown in his lazy drawl on his first day. 

Will’s chest was tight with excitement. He followed the deep gashes in the grass where the heavy Animagus had torn into the ground, gaining speed towards the black forest that was towering ahead of them like a black wall. The trees seemed to swallow every light from the moon and the castle and Will felt a sharp twinge of foreboding. He got his wand out and with a whispered _Lumos_ the tip started to glow with a soft light, illuminating the first few steps in front of him. 

He stopped when he was just in front of the first row of trees, looking up at the looming branches. Hannibal appeared right next to him, a strong and silent presence. Their shoulders were brushing and Will took a deep breath of relief. He threw a quick glance to the man and as expected, found dark eyes on his face already. It was almost comforting. 

“Shall we?” he asked, sounding relaxed and something close to amused. 

Will shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder who of us is the weirder one.”

The flash of teeth was the only sign for the sharp grin in the dark. “It’s fine to be weird, Will.” 

He snorted in reply. “Tell that to the rest of the world,” he said before he started walking towards the trees. 

Hannibal fell in step next to him, their bodies moving in sync. “Does the rest of the world matter that much to you?”

The last part of the question echoed uncomfortably loud in the sudden deafening silence as they stepped between the trees and Will’s answer died on his tongue.

The air stopped moving and appeared to be holding its breath as every sound got swallowed by the space around them. Everything seemed to be closing in on them and the stifling air felt heavy on his skin. They seemed to intrude into a space that was used to being left alone and the trees bowed down to them in accusation. 

A rustling on his left side had Will lift up his wand to widen the space illuminated by the light. Hannibal did the same, but there was nothing to see, only still branches and dark shadows. 

“Do you see anything? Magic?” 

Will started and stared at Hannibal’s shadowed face in shock. He hadn’t told him about this and he wondered if Hannibal had managed to get past his defenses and catch it in his head. 

Hannibal just calmly looked ahead. “I have done some research. There are instances of your ability appearing all through history and most of them had also the gift to see magic as a physical manifestation in the air, similar to synesthesia.”

Will snorted and continued to walk forwards.

“Of course, you did.” 

Will stepped over a fallen tree and bent under low hanging branches, eyes on the ground to follow the footprints showing in the dim light of his wand. Moist leaves brushed his face like cold caresses of passing ghosts and Will had to resist the urge to constantly wipe at the spots with his sleeves. The footprints got fewer with the ground getting firmer and the guy had probably slowed down as well. He could be anywhere here, the trees, bushes and undergrowth perfect to hide anything from a mouse to a centaur. 

His eyes had adjusted to the overpowering darkness around them and now he could see more details of the surrounding area. Skeletal branches and thick roots reached out to them from all sides while they made their way deeper into the thick of the forest. After a while, it seemed his wand’s light became weaker and the illuminated area was getting smaller. It took Will a moment to finally realize that part of the blackness around him was actually magic. The forest was drenched in it, but it was black as the night, floating like thick fog around them. He just hadn’t been able to distinguish it from its surroundings until now. 

Suddenly, Will saw something flitting past on his left, barely more than a flash of light in the corner of his eye. He squinted into the darkness before letting his wand go dark. Hannibal followed his cue immediately. The night enveloped them and the silence was almost a physical weight on Will’s skin. There was nothing to be heard, not even Hannibal’s breath. 

He stared into the heavy darkness, trying to find whatever had moved. The air seemed to become colder and Will shivered, goosebumps spreading over his nape and arms. 

Will saw a soft flicker of purple magic appearing for a moment and started walking towards it. It had been barely more than a moment somewhere ahead of them, but it was enough to convince Will that it was the guy they were looking for. 

He tried to navigate the uneven ground carefully and silently, hoping not to give their position away by stumbling over stray roots. He lost the feeling of how long he was inching forwards step for step after a while. It could have been minutes or hours. His chest started to hurt with his attempt to breath shallowly and quietly and Will could feel his muscles ache with the tension and adrenaline locking them up. 

A crack in the dark was the only warning he got before something crashed into him with the force of a car. All air left his lungs when he hit the ground and a heavy weight landed on his chest. 

Claws were buried in his arms and a heavy pressure on his shoulder told him that a huge jaw had locked around his bones. He jerked his knee up and the impact into soft tissue made the claws and jaw vanish with a high yowl. It took Will a moment to get his bearings, but then he reached for his hunting knife and with a swift motion, he buried it into whatever body part was above him. 

He got a ferocious snarl as an answer and a kick to his gut before the weight was gone. Will immediately rolled away, but he guessed the creature would have far better night vision than he had, so running away was not an option. 

There was a sharp sting in his shoulder when he got to his feet, but Will ignored it, knife in hand, eyes searching. 

He’d never been as glad as he was now over his ability when he saw the soft purple magic float through the night, indicating where the Animagus was crouching. The magic was weak, mostly being used up in the transformation, but it was still clearly visible in the surrounding darkness. 

Will didn’t have much time to get a better grip on his knife before he got attacked again. He dived under the launch and felt his knife sink into flesh, hitting bones. It didn’t deter the Animagus, its massive form hitting the ground and swirling around to attack anew. Everything was a blur and Will had trouble keeping his orientation of up and down, left and right. He got slammed into a tree, lungs constricting painfully, before he managed to land another hit with his knife. 

He finally managed to land a punch against the prominent snout, teeth cutting his knuckles before the beast shook its head to get rid of the dizziness. With his last strength, Will jumped ahead and buried his knife deep into the thick throat, severing arteries and muscles. The Animagus dropped to the ground, twitching and coughing, blood bubbling out of his snout and the open wound. 

Will’s breath heaved, stars flitted across his vision and he shook his head to restore his balance. His whole body throbbed with adrenaline and energy, muscles tight and ready to strike again, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He felt warm wetness running down his arms and hands and he wasn’t sure how much of the blood was his own and how much from the dead Animagus. There was no pain with the adrenaline still suppressing it all and Will was almost shaking with it. 

A sudden flare of magic on the ground in front of him showed how the Animagus shrank back from the huge animal back to his smaller human form. Will saw the vague outlines of his body, lying broken in front of him, before all signs of life vanished and darkness once again fell into the small clearing. 

It took the deafening silence of the still space around him to realize that he’d lost his wand and he had no idea where Hannibal was. Will had thought the man had been right behind him the whole time before the attack occurred, but he’d clearly been alone during the fight and nothing was moving right now. 

He pocketed his knife and reached into the air blindly, whispering Accio Wand. There was a rustling sound somewhere on his right and a moment later the thin wooden piece smacked into his open palm. 

He lightened up the tip and blinked into the sudden brightness. 

Hannibal was nowhere to be seen.

Will frowned in confusion, but focused on the body in front of him. The naked man was covered in blood and cut open in several places where Will’s knife had hit its target. His throat was a mess of flesh and bone, gaping open and glistening black. He looked younger than expected, barely more than a teenager. 

He knelt down next to him and reached out to his face. Maybe he could find out how he’d managed to get on the castle grounds and into the village without detection. Maybe someone had helped him. Maybe he knew the Chesapeake Ripper. 

“Will?” 

His head snapped up, searching the darkness beyond his small circle of light. 

“Hannibal?!”

Will jumped up, but before he could step forward, the man appeared between the trees, wand lit up. 

“Where have you been? Are you alright?” Will snapped, relief mixing with anger. 

Hannibal stared at the body and Will tensed, but he couldn’t identify the look on his face.

“Maybe I should ask you this, Will. Are you hurt? Is this our Animagus?”

The man slowly stepped closer, movements careful as if he was afraid to interrupt something. Hannibal looked up from the dead figure and their eyes met. 

Will’s head was still in overdrive and flayed wide open after the fight and he had no chance to prevent his next encounter with Hannibal’s mind. He felt cold concrete under him when the darkness of Hannibal’s inner workings fell all around him. Will had no idea where he was. One second he was standing in the forest and the next he was somewhere else. Again there were no memories, no pictures and scenes, just darkness and the vague sense of being somewhere else surround by Hannibal. He felt Hannibal’s fascination and curiosity all around him, like a soft caress across his skin. There was no shock, no disgust, no outrage, just a gentle whisper of approval and pride. He swallowed and concentrated harder, trying to find out what was going on.

It felt as if he was standing in a wide hall and Will knew if he’d made a sound it would echo from stark walls. Will turned around and suddenly, he saw that white light again. It was just sitting there with its light not reaching any walls. It still felt familiar, as if… 

“Will?”

Hannibal’s eyes broke their contact and scanned over Will’s body, lingering on his shoulder. “You are hurt. Let me take a look at that.”

Will dropped his gaze to his shoulder and found torn up clothes and deep gashes of ripped open skin and muscles with blood oozing slowly down his arm. The pain slammed into him like a sledgehammer and he cursed sharply before his legs gave out. 

The soft grip of magic caught him before his knees hit the ground. He was lowered down carefully and Hannibal stepped close to kneel next to him. 

Gentle fingers peeled soaked and ripped pieces of fabric off his wounds while Will tried to ignore the proximity of Hannibal next to him and above all the pain. There was no indication if he knew Will had searched his mind, but the man was too controlled to let something slip he didn’t want anyone to see. 

“I can’t do much without proper potions and salves, but I will clean the wounds and stop the bleeding until we are back in the castle.” A gentle finger stroked over a spot of unhurt skin and his voice was a low murmur. It almost felt like reverence to Will and he felt a searing heat in his chest. 

“Where were you?” he tried again to distract himself from the pain and their closeness. 

“I lost you in the dark. You were probably following something I couldn’t see, but I didn’t want to draw attention to us, so I kept quiet, hoping to find you again quickly. I heard the fight and followed the sounds of struggle.”

A soothingly cool feeling settled over his wounds and Will sighed in relief as the pain in his shoulder became nothing more than a dull throb. 

“This is the best I can do for now.” Hannibal leaned back, but didn’t get up, just looking at him as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture Will painted. Ragged and bloody and torn up. Will wondered what Hannibal saw. 

“We need to get him back to the castle. Find out who he is and how he got on the grounds.” 

Hannibal glanced towards the body. Their wands threw a soft orange light over Hannibal’s sharp profile and prominent cheekbones while putting his eyes into deep shadows. He looked soft and dangerous at the same time and Will blushed at the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the man. He looked down to his bloody hands, wondering if he should just throw himself off the nearest cliff in embarrassment. 

“His name is Randall Tier. He was a student at Hogwarts a few years back. Maybe he never left the grounds after graduating.”

Will raised his eyes back to Hannibal and searched his face for any sort of emotion, but didn’t find more than a cursory expression that might have been regret if interpreted graciously. 

Hannibal turned back to Will, his sharp eyes and betraying nothing of what went on in his head. “Did you lose your wand that you fought him with your knife? I don’t know many wizards who carry knives. To win against such a strong and feral Animagus is not a small feat.” 

Will almost preened until he remembered that they were talking about how he had killed someone. 

Hannibal got off the ground, dusted off the knees of his suit and then reached out with his hand. Hannibal’s hand was warm and dry and strong as he pulled Will up. His legs thankfully decided to keep him upright. 

“I only got a wand when I was almost thirty while I’ve been working and hunting with knives for most of my life. It’s an automatic reaction and I didn’t even think about using my wand. Spells, especially those used in fights, don’t come easy to me.”

The corpse lifted off the ground with a flick of Hannibal’s wand after Hannibal had placed his dark cloak over the naked form. 

“Didn’t the Auror Division in Baltimore train you for your work?”

They walked slowly, Will’s body now telling him exactly where he had the most horrible bruises and cuts. 

“I was only ever meant to be a teacher. I wanted my ability to be useful for once.”

He stumbled over a bigger root and Hannibal’s arm came around his waist to catch him. Will gripped the strong shoulder and together they hobbled along, the lifeless body moving behind them through the air. If it weren’t so morbid, Will would laugh at the picture they must present. 

“How is your gift useful for students though? They don’t see what you see. They don’t have the power to find what you can find in someone’s head.”

Will felt Hannibal’s hand tighten on his hipbone to pull him closer and for a moment there was no speech left in him. Their bodies were pressed together almost from knee to shoulder and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to someone. He pushed the tingling feelings in his gut resolutely away and concentrated on the question.

“Everything I see, every memory, every emotion, finds its manifestation in the real world. Everything I see has left a physical trace at the crime scene. I see what has left the evidence instead of interpreting what has been left behind and reconstructing it, but I can teach them what to look out for and how to paint a picture out of it. Most crimes follow patterns. Most people follow patterns. Just because they can’t see them right away doesn’t mean they can’t come to the same conclusions.”

“I see. It’s remarkable.” 

Hannibal’s voice held notes of something soft and intense and Will tried his best not to squirm in the man’s arms. He stared straight ahead of them and ignored the warmth spreading through his stomach. He knew there’d be a smile on Hannibal’s face. 

Will was so tired suddenly. Tired of resisting what felt so good, tired of being alone when there was someone right next to him who accepted him so freely and readily. Every aspect of him. Will tightened his grip on Hannibal’s shoulder and put more of his weight on him. 

“Thank you,” he simply said, knowing Hannibal would understand. He seemed to understand so much of Will already and Will wanted to treasure that feeling. 

He opened his mouth to say more, but a low sound from his right interrupted him. They stopped in unison and listened into the silence of the forest. 

“What do you see?” Hannibal asked softly.

“I’m not sure. I think there is someone.” 

Will let go of Hannibal, his pains and aches forgotten. He carefully stepped forwards until he finally spotted a weak sheen of magic floating near the ground, the color something indiscernible. 

“Hello?” The voice was thin and shaky. Will hurried faster and almost fell down into the yawning abyss in front of him. 

He stared dumbfounded into the hole in the ground and the ghostlike figure he found in the shine of his wand. 

“Miriam?” Hannibal had appeared next to him and Will jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“Miriam Lass?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again. I AM SO SORRY. D:
> 
> and the biggest thanks to Llew for all her hard work with this. I just hope my next update won't take months again x__x


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